THE  CH 

<%-  OF  JE 


Section 


THE   CHILD'S    LIFE   OF   JESUS 


THK    WISK    MEN    FROM     IHK    EAST 


THE    CHILD'S 
LIFE   OF   JESUS 


BY  THE  REV.  C.  M.  STEEDMAN 

VICAR  OF  SHAW 
WITH  THIRTY  PICTURES  IN  COLOUR 

BY   PAUL   WOODROFFE 


NEW    YORK 

FREDERICK  A.  STOKES   COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Edinburgh  :  T   and  A.  Constable,  Printers  to  Hi:.  Majesty 


TO    PHYLLIS 


PREFACE 

Simple  and  excellent  as  are  many  of  the  existing 
stories  of  the  Life  of  our  Lord  for  children,  they  are 
mostly  of  a  frankly  abridged  type.  The  present  work, 
while  marked,  it  is  hoped,  by  the  simplicity  which 
should  characterise  a  book  intended  primarily  for  the 
young,  is  an  attempt  to  present  the  Life  and  Teaching 
of  the  children's  Saviour  in  somewhat  fuller  and  more 
generous  outline.  In  its  production  much  valuable 
help  has  been  found  in  the  writings  of  Pere  Didon, 
Drs.  Edersheim  and  Geikie,  Dean  Farrar,  and  other 
well-known  authors.  The  legends,  verses,  and  anecdotes 
which  give  colour  to  its  pages,  have  been  gathered 
from  a  variety  of  sources,  but  special  mention  should 
be  made  of  Dr.  Miller's  charming  little  books  of  the 
'  Silent  Times '  series,  from  which  a  number  of  striking 
stories  and  quotations  have  been  taken. 

The  writer  would  be  ungrateful  did  he  not  recognise 
how  much  the  Child's  Life  of  Jesus  owes  to  the  grace- 
ful dress  in  which  it  appears,  and  to  the  beautiful 
pictures  with  which  Mr.  Paul  Woodroffe  has  illustrated 
it.  It  only  remains  for  him  to  add  that  he  sends  out 
the  book  with  the  earnest  prayer  that  it  may  prove  of 
some  small  service  to  the  Church  of  God,  by  helping, 
in  however  slight  a  degree,  the  children  who  may  read 
it  towards  a  better  and  truer  knowledge  of  Him, 
'Whom  truly  to  know  is  everlasting  life.' 

Shaw  Vicarage,  Wilts. 
Ascension  Day,   1906. 


CONTENTS 

BOOK   I 
SUNRISE  ON  THE  HILLS 

CHAP.  PAGB 

I.  THE  STORY  OF  THE  WONDERFUL  LIFE, ...  1 

n.  THE  VISION  OF  ZACHARIAS  —  THE  MESSAGE  THE 
ANGEL  BROUGHT  TO  MARY— THE  BIRTH  OF  THE 
KING'S  FORERUNNER, 6 

III.  BETHLEHEM, 18 

IV.  THE    CIRCUMCISION    AND    PRESENTATION    IN    THE 

TEMPLE, 26 

V.  THE    VISIT    OF   THE   WISE    MEN— THE    MURDER    OF 

THE  INNOCENTS, 34 

VI.  THE  FLIGHT  INTO  EGYPT— THE  NAZARETH  LIFE,       .         45 

VII.  THE  VISIT  TO  THE  TEMPLE,  ....         67 

BOOK    II 

THE   SHINING  LIGHT 

I.  THE  PREACHING  OF  THE  KING'S  FORERUNNER— THE 

BAPTISM  OF  JESUS, 71 

IL  HOW    THE     KING     FOUGHT     HIS     BATTLE     IN    THE 

WILDERNESS, 80 


X  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 


CHAP. 


PAGE 


III.  THE    CALL   OF    THE    FIRST   DISCIPLES— HOW   JESUS 

TURNED  WATER  INTO  WINE  AT  THE  MARRIAGE 
FEAST  OF  CANA, 89 

IV.  JESUS'    HOME  AT  CAPERNAUM— THE  FIRST  CLEANS- 

ING OF  THE  TEMPLE— THE  RULER  WHO  CAME 
TO  JESUS  BY  NIGHT— THE  WOMAN  AT  THE  WELL 
OF  SYCHAR, 102 

V.  HOW  JESUS  HEALED  THE  NOBLEMAN'S  SON— THE 
REJECTION  AT  NAZARETH  — THE  MIRACULOUS 
DRAUGHT  OF  FISHES, 118 

VI.  MIRACLES     OF     HEALING     AT     CAPERNAUM  —  THE 

CLEANSING  OF  THE  LEPER,         .  .  .  .131 

VII.  HOW    A     PARALYSED    MAN     CAME    THROUGH    THE 

ROOF— THE  CALL  OF  LEVI  THE  PUBLICAN— HOW 
THE  KING  CHOSE  TWELVE  AMBASSADORS,  .         141 

VIII.  THE  KING  ON  THE  MOUNT  OF  BLESSING,  .  .       155 

IX.  THE  CRIPPLE  AT  THE  HOUSE  OF  MERCY  —  HOW 
THE  DISCIPLES  PLUCKED  THE  EARS  OF  CORN— 
THE  STONE-MASON  WITH  THE  WITHERED  HAND 
—THE  ROMAN  SOLDIER  AND  HIS  SICK  SLAVE- 
HOW  JESUS  RAISED  A  DEAD  MAN  TO  LIFE  AT 
PLEASANT  NAIN, 165 

X.  ST.  JOHN  IN  THE  BLACK  CASTLE-THE  MURDER  IN 
THE  DUNGEON— SIMON  THE  PHARISEE  AND  THE 
WOMAN  WHO  WAS  A  SINNER,  .  .  .  .177 


CONTENTS  xi 

CHAP.  FACE 

XI.  THE  SEVEN  PICTURES  OF  THE  KINGDOM— THE 
STORM  ON  THE  LAKE— JESUS  AND  THE  DEMONIAC 
OF  GADARA, 188 

Xll.  THE  LITTLE  MAID  WHOM  JESUS  RAISED  FROM  THE 
DEAD— THE  KINGS  AMBASSADORS— THE  MIRACLE 
OF  THE  FIVE  LOAVES— HOW  JESUS  WALKED 
UPON  THE  WAVES, 198 

XIII.  CHRIST  THE  BREAD  OF  LIFE— THE  HEATHEN  WOMAN 

WHO  DESIRED  TO  BE  FED  WITH  THE  CRUMBS 
WHICH  FELL  FROM  JESUS'  TABLE— THE  DEAF 
MAN  WITH  THE  STAMMERING  TONGUE  IN  DECA- 
POLIS— THE  SEVEN  LOAVES  WHICH  FED  FOUR 
THOUSAND, 210 

XIV.  ST.     PETER'S      BRAVE     CONFESSION     AT     C^SAREA 

PHILIPPI— HOW  THE  KING  APPEARED  IN  HIS 
GLORY  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN— THE  HEALING  OF 
THE  LUNATIC  BOY, 221 

XV.  THE  SERMON  PREACHED  BY  A  LITTLE  CHILD— A 
LESSON  ABOUT  FORGIVENESS— JESUS  AT  THE 
FEAST  OF  TABERNACLES— THE  MAN  WHO  WAS 
BORN  BLIND-THE  ALLEGORY  OF  THE  GOOD 
SHEPHERD, 233 

XVI.  THE  MISSION  OF  THE  SEVENTY— THE  HEALING  OF 
THE  TEN  LEPERS— JESUS  TEACHES  HIS  DISCIPLES 
TO  PRAY— THE  PARABLES  OF  THE  RICH  CHURL 
AND  THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN— THE  HOME  OF 
BETHANY, 24^ 


xii  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

CHAP.  PAGE 

XVII.  JESUS  AT  THE  FEAST  OF  DEDICATION— THE  MEAL 
AT  THE  PHARISEE'S  HOUSE,  AND  WHAT  HAP- 
PENED AT  IT— THE  PARABLES  OF  THE  GREAT 
SUPPER,  THE  LOST  SHEEP,  THE  LOST  COIN,  AND 
THE  PRODIGAL  SON, 258 

XVIII.  THE  PARABLES  OF  THE  UNJUST  STEWARD,  THE 
RICH  MAN  AND  THE  BEGGAR,  THE  PHARISEE 
AND  THE  PUBLICAN— JESUS  BLESSES  THE  LITTLE 
CHILDREN— THE  STORY  OF  'THE  GREAT  RE- 
FUSAL—THE PARABLE  OF  THE  LABOURERS  IN 
THE  VINEYARD, 272 

XIX.  HOW  JESUS  RAISED  LAZARUS  FROM  THE  DEAD— 
CAIAPHAS  AND  HIS  PROPHECY— JESUS  FORETELLS 
HIS  PASSION— THE  BOON  SALOME  CRAVED  FOR 
HER  TWO  SONS, 285 

XX.  THE  BLIND  BEGGAR  OF  JERICHO— HOW  ZACCH^US 
CLIMBED  INTO  A  TREE  TO  SEE  JESUS— THE 
PARABLE  OF  THE  NOBLEMAN  AND  THE  PIECES  OF 
MONEY— MARY  AND  HER  BOX  OF  SPIKENARD,       .       295 


BOOK    III 

THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW 

HOW  THE  KING  ENTERED  JERUSALEM  IN  TRIUMPH 
—THE  FRUITLESS  FIG-TREE— THE  SECOND  CLEANS- 
ING    OF     THE     TEMPLE— THE     LITTLE    SINGING 


CONTENTS  xiii 

•         PAGB 

CHILDREN— THE  QUESTION  WHICH  WAS  PUT  TO 
JESUS  IN  THE  TEMPLE  AND  HOW  HE  ANSWERED 
IT— THE  PARABLES  OF  THE  FALSE  SON,  THE 
WICKED  HUSBANDMEN,  AND  THE  WEDDING 
FEAST, 309 

n.  A  QUESTION  ABOUT  TklBUTE-MONEY-A  LESSON 
ON  THE  RESURRECTION  LIFE-JESUS'  STERNNESS 
AND  HIS  PITY- A  POOR  AFIDOW  AND  HER 
OFFERING  —  THE  INQUIRING  GREEKS  —  JESUS 
LEAVES  THE  TEMPLE,       .  .  .  .  .324 

IIL  THE  SECOND  COMING— THE  PARABLES  OF  THE  WISE 
AND  FOOLISH  VIRGINS,  THE  TALENTS,  THE 
SHEEP  AND  THE  GOATS— HOW  JUDAS  BETRAYED 
HIS  MASTER— HOW  THE  KING  GAVE  HIS  DIS- 
CIPLES A  ROYAL  GIFT, 336 

IV.  GETHSEMANE-THE  ARREST-JESUS  IN  THE  PALACE 
OF  CAIAPHAS— HOW  ST.  PETER  DENIED  HIS 
MASTER— THE  FATE  OF  JUDAS,  .  .  .351 

V.  THE  TRIAL  BEFORE  PILATE,  .  .364 

VI.  CALVARY, .374 


xiv  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

BOOK    IV 
THE    GLORY    BEYOND 

CHAP.  PAf^"^ 

I.  THE  FIRST  EASTER  DAWN— THE  JOURNEY  TO 
EMMAUS-JESUS  APPEARS  TO  HIS  DISCIPLES  IN 
THE  UPPER  ROOM, 391 

II.  DOUBTING  THOMAS  AND  THE  RISEN  LORD— THE 
MORNING  ON  THE  LAKE— HOW  THE  KING  WENT 
UP  TO  HEAVEN, 403 

INDEX, 417 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


The  Wise  Men  from  the  East— /^ro 
The  Angel's  Message  to  Mary, 

niispieci 

AT    PAGE 

12 

The  Angel  and  the  Shepherds, 

22 

The  Visit  of  the  Shepherds, 

24 

The  Presentation  in  the  Temple, 

28 

The  Flight  into  Egypt, 

42 

The  Workshop  of  Nazareth, 

50 

Jesus  among  the  Doctors, 

64 

The  Baptism  of  Jesus, 

78 

The  Temptation, 

84 

The  Marriage  at  Cana, 

98 

The  Call  of  the  Fishermen,  . 

12C 

The  Sower,      . 

188 

The  Raising  of  Jairus'  Daughter, 

200 

The  Miracle  of  the  Loaves,  . 

204 

The  Transfiguration, 

226 

The  Good  Samaritan, 

252 

The  Good  Shepherd, 

x\ 

264 

XVI 


THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 


The  Prodigal  Son,      . 

AT    PAGE 

270 

Jesus  Blessing  Little  Children, 

276 

The  Entry  into  Jerusalem,    . 

312 

The  Last  Supper, 

348 

The  Agony  in  the  Garden,  , 

354 

The  Crown  of  Thorns, 

370 

Christ  before  Pilate,  . 

372 

Jesus  on  the  Cross,    . 

382 

The  Resurrection, 

392 

The  Angel  at  the  Sepulchre, 

394 

The  Supper  at  Emmaus, 

400 

The  Ascension, 

414 

BOOK    I 

SUNRISE  ON  THE  HILLS 


'  O  little  town  of  Bethlehem, 

How  still  we  see  thee  lie  ! 
Above  thy  deep  and  dreamless  sleep 

The  silent  stars  go  by ; 
Yet  in  thy  dark  streets  shineth 

The  everlasting  light ; 
The  hopes  and  fears  of  all  the  years 

Are  met  in  thee  to-night  1' 


THE   CHILD'S    LIFE   OF  JESUS 

I 

THE    STORY    OF    THE    WONDERFUL    LIFE 

We  all  love  to  hear  stories,  and  the  best  stories  are 
generally  those  that  have  to  do  with  great  and  noble 
lives.  In  the  library  of  the  world  we  find  many 
beautiful  stories  of  this  kind  written  down  for  our 
learning.  As  stars  in  the  sky,  shining  innumerable,  so 
are  the  lives  of  the  apostles  and  martyrs,  the  saints  and 
heroes,  the  great  poets  and  mighty  thinkers,  who  from 
time  to  time  liave  lived  near  God  and  revealed  His 
mind  to  men.  Lives  like  these  have  been  among  God's 
most  precious  gifts  to  this  world.  Like  the  stars  by 
which  the  sailor  steers  his  course,  they  have  pointed  many 
a  storm-tossed  soul  the  way  to  Heaven,  and  the  hght 
they  have  shed  upon  the  world's  darkness  is  a  light 
which  shall  never  grow  dim  or  fade  away. 

But  there  is  One  life  which  must  always  come  first, 
as  the  most  wonderful  and  blessed  life  that  has  been  ever 
lived,  and  that  is  the  life  of  Him  who  is  '  the  true  Lixzht 
which  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world,' 
our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ. 

Many  hundreds  of  years  have  passed  by  since  the  story 
of  this  wonderful  life  was  first  given  to  the  world,  and  yet 
it  is  the  one  story  of  which  the  world  has  never  grown 
weary.  It  is  an  old,  old  story.  Even  you,  dear  child, 
have  heard  it  many  times  before.     Yet  though  old,  it  is 


2  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

somehow  always  new.  There  are  some  things  of  which 
we  never  tire :  the  song  of  the  birds,  the  scent  of  the 
roses,  the  tender  colouring  of  the  spring  flowers,  the  blue 
of  the  summer  sky.  Things  like  these  never  seem  to  lose 
their  freshness.  It  is  just  so  with  the  story  of  Jesus  ;  the 
more  we  read  it  the  more  wonderful  it  seems,  and  the 
greater  hold  it  takes  of  our  hearts. 

It  is  the  story  of  One  who,  though  the  great  Son  of 
God  Himself,  was  yet  born  the  Son  of  Mary  ;  of  One 
who,  though  throned  in  glory  at  God's  right  hand,  yet  laid 
aside  His  royal  robes  and  His  kingly  crown  and  came 
down  from  Heaven  to  be  born  a  little  child,  to  live 
a  sad  and  sorrowful  life,  and  to  die  a  cruel  death  at  last 
upon  the  Cross. 

It  is  the  story  of  One  whose  heart  was  large  enough 
to  take  in  all  the  world  ;  who  was  full  of  pity  and  com- 
passion for  the  sorrowing  and  the  lost,  who  loved  little 
children;  who  although  He  could  be  very  stern  in  the 
face  of  cruelty  and  hypocrisy,  yet  never  said  a  harsh  word 
or  did  an  unkind  thing  in  all  His  life;  who,  as  He  died, 
died  with  uplifted  hands,  praying  for  the  world  that  hated 
and  rejected  Him. 

Yes,  it  is  all  this,  but  it  is  even  more  than  this.  It  is 
the  story  of  One  who,  dying,  rose  again  from  death,  and 
who,  having  entered  Heaven  as  our  great  High  Priest, 
never  ceases  to  intercede  for  us  with  God  before  the 
golden  altar. 

It  is  the  story  of  One  who  carries  our  sorrows,  rules 
our  lives,  wins  forgiveness  of  our  sins,  the  same  kind, 
loving,  tender  Friend  He  always  was,  '  Jesus  Christ,  the 
same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever.' 

How  did  Jesus  come  to  live  that  wonderful  life  of  His, 
which  we  find  written  down  for  us  in  the  Gospels  ?  What 
was  the  reason  of  His  being  born  into  the  world  at  all  ?  ■ 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  WONDERFUL  LIFE    3 

For  an  answer  to  this  question  we  must  turn  back  to 
the  very  beginning  of  the  Bible.  God,  we  are  tohi,  at 
the  first  made  the  world  '  very  good.'  He  created  man 
after  His  own  image,  perfectly  good  and  so  perfectly 
happy.  He  set  him  in  the  beautiful  Garden  of  Paradise 
and  gave  him  all  his  heart's  desire.  But  in  an  evil  hour 
man  was  tempted  by  God's  enemy,  the  devil,  and  fell  into 
sin,  and  by  sin  came  separation  from  God  and  so  death — 
death  of  the  body,  and  far  worse  than  this,  death  of  the 
soul.  The  world  God  had  made  very  good  became  very 
evil  and  corrupt ;  it  looked  as  if  the  devil  had  triumphed 
and  God's  purpose  in  making  man  had  been  utterly 
defeated.  But  God  said,  '  No,  this  beautiful  world  of 
mine  shall  not  perish,  for  I  will  save  it.'  And  so,  even 
before  the  angel  with  flaming  sword  had  shut  the  gate  of 
Paradise  upon  poor,  sad,  ruined  Eve,  the  promise  of  a 
Deliverer  came.  God  said  He  would  send  His  own  dear 
Son  into  the  world  to  undo  the  devil's  work,  to  pay 
the  debt  of  sin,  and  to  bring  back  man's  lost  likeness 
to  Himself 

Ah,  how  eagerly  the  world  looked  forward  to  the 
coming  of  the  great  Deliverer.  All  down  the  ages 
psalmist  after  psalmist  sang  sweet  songs  about  it ; 
prophet  after  prophet  kept  the  hope  of  it  alive  in  people's 
hearts.  Yet  time  went  on  and  still  the  Saviour  did  not 
come,  until  it  almost  looked  as  if  God  had  forgotten  His 
promise.     Only  God  never  forgets— 

'  God's  ways  seem  dark,  but  soon  or  late 
They  touch  the  shining  hills  of  day.' 

All  this  time  He  was  preparing  the  world,  He  was 
getting  it  ready  for  the  birth  of  His  Son.  The  world 
was  getting  more  and  more  dissatisfied  with  its  old  worn- 
out  religions  ;  people's  hearts  were  feeling  more  and  more 


4  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

the  need  of  a  Saviour.  Then  just  when  the  night  was 
darkest  the  dawn  broke  upon  the  hills,  the  world's 
Deliverer  came,  Jesus  Christ  was  born  at  Bethlehem. 

So  the  wonder  and  the  glory  of  God's  plan  was 
revealed  at  last.  Jesus  lived,  He  died.  He  rose  again 
from  death,  and  by  His  death  He  destroyed  death,  and 
by  His  rising  to  life  again  restored  to  us  everlasting  life. 

This  then  was  the  reason  of  Jesus'  coming.  The 
story  of  the  wonderful  life  is  the  story  of  God's  purpose 
in  blessing  and  saving  the  world. 

Dear  child,  as  we  read  that  story  let  us  remember 
why  it  has  been  written  down  for  us  in  the  Gospels ;  not 
simply  that  we  may  admire  it  for  its  beauty  and  loveli- 
ness, but  that  it  may  draw  us  to  a  right  belief  in  Jesus, 
to  look  up  to  Him  as  our  Saviour,  to  love  Him  and 
crown  Him  in  our  hearts  as  King, 

'  Love  Him,'  says  an  old  book  called  The  Imitation  of 
Christ,  '  and  keep  Him  for  thy  friend,  who  when  all  go 
away  will  not  leave  thee,  nor  suffer  thee  to  perish  at  the 
last' 

There  is  no  one  else  so  worthy  of  our  love  as  Jesus, 
no  friendship,  however  deep  and  tender,  that  can  compare 
with  His. 

'  Sweeter  than  a  prayer-bell  for  a  saint  in  dying. 
Sweeter  than  a  death-bell  for  a  saint  at  rest. 
Music  struck  in  Heaven  with  earth's  faint  replying, 
Life  is  good  J  and  death  is  good,  for  Christ  is  best.' 


II 

THE    VISION    OF     ZACHARIAS THE     MESSAGE     THE     ANGEI. 

BROUGHT      TO     MARY THE      BIRTH      OF      THE      KING's 

FORERUNNER 

The  glad  news  that  the  coming  of  the  Saviour  was  at 
hand  was  first  brought  to  the  world  by  one  of  the  holy 
angels. 

The  Bible  is  all  ashine  with  angel  stories.  Over  and 
over  again  we  read  how  God  used  these  bright  and 
beautiful  beings,  whose  highest  joy  it  is  to  serve  Him, 
as  His  messengers.  The  world,  even  when  it  had  drifted 
far  away  from  God  into  the  darkness,  was  never  allowed 
to  drift  quite  away ;  there  was  always  the  golden  thread 
of  God's  love  to  bind  it  fast.  The  darkness  was  not 
altogether  dark,  for  the  white-winged  angels  still  went 
to  and  fro  bearing  their  messages  of  hope  and  consola- 
tion, and  brightening  the  sad  lot  of  men  with  their  loving 
ministry. 

And  now  the  time  had  come  for  God  to  give  the 
crowning  proof  of  the  love  He  bore  the  world  by  sending 
His  Son  to  be  born  and  to  die  upon  the  Cross,  and  again 
the  angels  are  the  first  to  bring  the  news. 

An  angel,  as  we  shall  presently  see,  appears  to 
Zacharias  in  the  Temple  ;  an  angel,  a  little  later,  an- 
nounces the  coming  birth  of  Jesus  to  the  Virgin  INIary, 
whom  God  had  chosen  to  be  His  mother.  Later  again, 
when  Jesus  is  born  at  Bethlehem,  an  angel  carries  the 


6  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

message  of  His  birth  to  the  shepherds  on  the  hills,  and 
we  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  great  flight  of  angels  who  had 
come  to  bear  him  company,  streaming  across  the  starry 
sky,  and  hear  them  singing  as  they  go. 

Zacharias,  to  whom  the  message  first  was  brought, 
was  not  one  of  the  great  ones  of  the  world,  as  the  world 
counts  greatness.  He  was  a  simple  country  priest,  living 
a  simple  quiet  life  with  his  wife,  Elisabeth,  in  the  city  of 
Hebron  in  the  hill  country  of  Judeea. 

But  both  Zacharias  and  Elisabeth  were  good  and 
holy  people  who  loved  God  dearly  and  kept  His  com- 
mandments with  their  whole  hearts.  And  because  they 
were  so  good  and  holy,  God  greatly  blessed  them  ;  only 
there  was  one  crowning  blessing  that  they  lacked.  Many 
years  had  passed  by  since  they  first  made  their  home  in 
the  little  mountain  city,  and  the  sunset  of  their  lives  was 
coming  on,  and  God  had  not  given  them  a  little  child. 

It  was  a  great  grief  to  a  Jew  to  be  childless.  To 
have  no  son  to  come  after  him  to  keep  his  name  alive, 
to  be  cut  off  from  the  hope  of  being  a  possible  forefather 
of  the  Christ,  all  this  was  a  fate  he  dreaded  very  sorely. 
This  fate  seemed  in  store  for  Zacharias,  and  the  thought 
of  it  distressed  him  greatly. 

Often  and  earnestly,  even  as  Hannah  of  old  prayed 
for  Samuel,  must  the  good  Elisabeth  have  prayed  to  God 
for  the  gift  of  the  little  boy  she  used  to  dream  about  as 
coming  to  cheer  and  brighten  their  lonely  home.  But 
the  years  passed  by  and  God  had  not  seen  fit  to  send  him, 
and  now  that  she  and  her  husband  were  growing  old,  the 
light  of  hope  in  their  hearts  was  beginning  to  burn 
very  low. 

I  have  said  that  Zacharias  was  a  priest,  and  it  was 
his  duty  therefore  to  serve  God  in  His  holy  Temple  at 
.lerusalem. 


BIRTH  OF  THE  KING'S  FORERUNNER      7 

The  priests  of  the  Temple  were  divided  into  twenty- 
four  companies,  or  'courses'  as  they  were  called,  each 
course  being  known  by  a  different  name,  and  each  having 
charge  of  the  Temple  services  for  certain  weeks  in  the 
year.  Zacharias  belonged  to  the  course  or  company  of 
'  Abijah,'  and  it  fell  to  his  lot  to  go  to  Jerusalem  to  take 
his  turn  at  serving  at  the  Temple  altar  in  each  spring  and 
ffill  of  the  year. 

At  the  time  of  which  we  are  thinking,  autumn,  with 
all  its  wealth  of  coloured  leaves  and  ri])ened  fruit,  had 
come,  and  he  had  travelled  up  from  Hebron  to  take  up 
his  abode  in  the  Temple. 

One  day  a  great  happiness  comes  his  way.  It  so  hap- 
pens that  he  is  chosen  to  offer  the  incense  upon  the  golden 
altar.  Every  morning  and  evening  this  solemn  offering- 
of  incense  took  place  at  the  time  the  lamb  was  offered  up 
on  the  altar  of  burnt  sacrifice,  and  greatly  blessed  was  the 
priest  to  wliom  the  lot  fell  to  swing  the  golden  censer 
before  God,  and  to  offer  the  prayers  in  the  Holy  Place. 
No  service  it  was  thought  brought  him  so  near  to  God  as 
this;  and  it  was  always  the  event  of  a  lifetime,  for  no 
one  was  ever  allowed  to  offer  the  incense  more  than  once. 
V^ery  early  in  the  morning,  before  it  w^as  light,  the 
priests  would  arise  and  bathe  and  put  on  their  white 
garments.  They  then  stood  in  a  circle  in  the  '  Hall  of 
Polished  Stones '  as  it  was  called,  waiting  for  the  lot  to 
be  cast  which  should  determine  who  should  offer  the 
incense  that  day.  When  this  was  known,  and  all  the 
preparations  had  been  made,  as  soon  as  the  first  scarlet 
shaft  of  sunrise  touched  the  distant  hills,  the  Temple 
gates  were  thrown  open,  and  three  blasts  from  the  silver 
trumpets  sounded,  calling  the  worshippers  to  God's 
House. 

On  this  particular  morning  it  was  Zacharias'  turn  to 


8  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

make  the  offering.  Awestruck  at  tlie  thought  of  drawing 
so  near  to  God,  and  yet  with  a  great  gladness  too  at  his 
heart,  he  mounts  the  marble  steps  which  lead  to  the 
Holy  Place.  We  can  picture  him  as  he  goes,  the  kindly 
faced  old  man,  with  his  bent  form  and  silver  hair.  He  is 
clad  in  a  robe  of  snowy  white,  and  lie  wears  a  mitre  of 
white  upon  his  head,  while  his  feet  are  bare  and  un- 
sandalled.  Two  other  priests,  also  robed  in  white,  walk 
at  his  side.  It  is  their  duty  to  prepare  the  altar  and 
keep  alive  the  sacred  fire  which  burns  upon  it,  and  which 
is  never  allowed  to  go  out. 

When  this  was  done  the  priests  retired,  closing  the 
golden  doors  behind  them,  and  Zacharias  was  left  alone 
in  the  Holy  Place — alone  with  God.  What  a  solemn 
moment  that  must  have  been  for  him.  Reverently  he 
takes  the  golden  censer  in  his  hand,  and  as  the  smoke  of 
the  incense  mounts  upward  he  bows  his  head  before  God 
in  humble,  earnest  prayer.  I  think  we  may  guess  what 
the  burden  of  his  prayer  would  be.  He  would  pray, 
would  he  not,  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem,  for  the  pardon 
of  the  nation's  sins  and  of  his  own,  for  the  speedy  coming 
of  the  Christ  ?  Perhaps,  too,  there  would  be  a  prayer 
for  the  little  child  for  whom  his  heart  was  longing. 
'  Who  knows,  God  may  give  him  to  me  even  now,'  he 
thinks. 

And,  as  he  prays,  suddenly  the  Holy  Place  is  filled 
with  a  burst  of  glory  so  bright  that  it  makes  the  flame  of 
the  great  gold  candlestick  which  lights  the  chamber  seem 
to  burn  dim  ;  and  on  the  right  side  of  the  altar — the  side 
of  good  omen — there  dawns  through  a  haze  of  gold  the 
figure  of  an  angel,  and  the  heart  of  Zacharias  is  filled 
with  fear. 

Have  you  ever  noticed  how,  when  angels  are  described 
in   the   Bible,  their  coming  always  brings  fear  at  first  ? 


BIRTH  OF  THE  KINGS  FORERUNNER   9 

AVas  it  because  they  came  in  siicli  a  sudden,  unexpected 
way  as  a  rule,   and    because   they   were    so    briglit   and 
dazzling  to  look  upon  ?     It  nnay  be  so,  but  perhaps  the 
real  reason  was  because  the  light  that  shone  upon  their 
faces  was  a  light  reflected  from  the  face  of  God.    Coming 
straight  from  God's  presence,  they  brought  the  awful  sense 
of  His  presence  with  them,  and  men  were  afraid  because, 
being  brought  near  to  the  angel,  they  felt  somehow  they 
were   being   brought   near   to    God    Himself.      And    so 
Zacharias  was  sore  afraid ;    but  when  the  angel  o])ened 
his  lips  to  speak,  his  fear  was  swallowed  up  in  a  great 
wonder  and  amazement,  for  the  angel's  words  made  it 
clear   that   the   time   which   he   and    all    God's   faithful 
servants  had  been  so  eagerly  expecting  had  come  at  last, 
that  Jesus  the  Deliverer  was  at  hand.     He  tells  Zacharias 
that  he  should  have  a  son  whose  name  must  be  called 
John,  w^ho  should  be  given  to  God  from  his  birth,  and 
that  God  would  make  of  him   a  great  prophet,  strong, 
fearless,   and  splendid,   like   the   prophet  Elijah.     More 
than  this,  that  he  should  be  forerunner  to  the  Christ,  and 
by  his  preaching  and  teaching  should   prepare  people's 
hearts  to  receive  Him  when  He  came. 

How  wonderful  it  all  sounded  !  Ah,  but  Zacharias 
was  an  old  man,  and  his  wife  too  was  old.  It  seemed 
difficult  to  believe  that  God  had  actually  sent  him  such 
a  message ;  too  good  to  be  true  that  he  really  should 
have  a  son  at  last.  And  so,  would  the  angel  give  him  a 
sign  ?  he  asks.  And  the  angel  gives  him  a  sign — only 
not  the  kind  of  sign  he  expected.  Because  Zacharias  had 
not  believed  his  word — the  word  of  the  great  archangel 
Gabriel,  w^ho  stood  in  the  presence  of  God  Himself — 
he  should  be  dumb  and  unable  to  speak  until  the 
day  when  God  should  carry  out  His  promise,  and  the 
little  boy  should  be  born. 


10  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Meanwhile  the  people  in  the  Temple  Courts  were 
waiting  for  Zacharias  to  come  out  and  dismiss  them  with 
his  blessing. 

There  was  always  a  hush  throughout  the  whole 
Temple  when  the  incense  was  being  burned,  for  this  was 
the  most  solemn  part  of  the  morning  and  evening  service. 
As  long  as  the  silver  thread  of  the  smoke  in  the  Holy 
Place  mounted  up  to  God,  the  people  without  remained 
praying  with  bowed  heads  in  silence.  In  silence  too 
they  stood  while  the  lamb  was  offered  up.  Then  the 
silver  trumpets  sounded,  and  the  psalm  for  the  day  was 
sung,  and  then  the  priest  who  offered  the  incense  would 
lift  his  hands  in  blessing  upon  them,  using  the  very 
same  words  which  Aaron  had  used  of  old  when  he  blessed 
the  people — 

'  The  Lord  bless  thee,  and  keep  thee  ; 
The  Lord  make  His  face  shine  upon  thee,  and  be  gracious  unto 

thee; 
The   Lord   lift   up   His    countenance  upon  thee,   and   give    thee 

peace.' 

But  the  time  went  on  and  still  Zacharias  did  not 
come,  and  the  people  began  to  be  troubled,  and  to 
wonder  what  had  happened. 

The  Holy  Place  was  thought  to  be  so  holy  that  the 
priest  never  stayed  in  it  longer  than  he  could  help. 
As  soon  as  the  incense  had  been  offered,  he  at  once 
reverently  withdrew,  lest  his  lingering  should  awaken 
God's  displeasure. 

Why  then  was  Zacharias  so  long  in  coming  ?  Could 
anything  be  the  matter  ?  At  last  the  gates  were  thrown 
back  and  Zacharias  came  forth,  and  the  worshippers  could 
see  at  once  that  something  strange  and  wonderful  had 
taken  place.  There  on  the  top  of  the  steps  he  stood, 
trying  to  speak;  but  try  as  he  might,  the  words  refused  to 


inilTH  OF  THE  KING'S  FORERUNNER     11 

come.  He  could  only  make  signs  and  point  back  at  the 
Holy  Place.  Rut  all  the  while  his  face  was  alight  with  a 
great  joy,  and  the  people  understood  that  he  had  seen 
a  vision. 

Some  six  months  passed  by  and  Zacharias  had  long 
since  gone  back  to  Hebron,  when  God  sent  His  angel 
once  more  to  earth.  This  time  he  came  to  bring  a 
message  to  Mary,  the  lowly  maiden  of  Nazareth,  and  the 
news  he  had  to  tell  was  the  wonderful  news  that  she  was 
to  be  the  mother  of  Jesus  Christ. 

We  know  nothing  of  Mary's  life  before  the  angel  came. 
The  Rible  simply  tells  us  that  she  lived  in  Nazareth,  and 
was  betrothed  to  a  poor  carpenter  named  Joseph. 

No  doubt  she  had  grown  up  much  like  other  children 
in  her  quiet  country  home  among  the  mountains,  learning 
to  spin  and  weave  and  bake  bread,  and  as  she  grew  older, 
fetching  water  from  the  well  just  as  the  other  Nazareth 
maidens  did. 

But  there  was  one  thing  which  marked  her  out  from 
all  the  rest,  and  that  was  her  lovely,  spotless  life.  We 
are  not  told  whether  she  was  beautiful  in  face — no  doubt 
she  was  very  beautiful — but  she  had  what  is  after  all  the 
best  and  highest  kind  of  beauty,  the  beauty  of  heart 
which  comes  from  a  life  lived  very  near  to  God.  Just  as 
the  lovely  flower  lives,  with  its  face  turned  towards  the 
sun,  so  she  kept  her  face  turned  towards  Heaven,  and 
God  filled  her  with  His  grace,  and  she  grew  before  Him 
like  some  radiant  rose  or  tall  white  lily  with  its  heart  of 
gold. 

'  Herself  a  rose  who  bore  the  Rose, 

She  bore  the  Rose  and  felt  its  thorn. 
All  Loveliness  new-born 
Took  on  her  bosom  its  repose. 

And  slept  and  woke  there  night  and  morn. 


12  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

'  Lily  herself,  she  bore  the  one 

Fair  Lily  ;  sweeter,  whiter  far 
Than  she  or  others  are  ; 
The  Sun  of  Righteousness  her  Son, 
She  was  His  morning  star.' 

Mary,  like  every  Jewish  maiden,  had  often  heard  the 
story  of  the  promise,  and  had  often  pondered  over  it 
and  prayed  about  it,  but  she  little  knew  how  soon  it 
should  be  fulfilled,  or  dreamt  of  the  honour  God  had  in 
store  for  her. 

One  day,  however,  the  message  comes  w^hich  changes 
her  whole  life.  It  was  spring-time,  and  skies  were  blue 
and  the  fields  were  full  of  flowers.  Perhaps,  as  some 
painters  have  loved  to  picture  the  scene,  she  had  gone 
into  her  garden  to  water  her  lilies  in  the  cool  of  the 
evening ;  perhaps,  as  others  have  thought,  she  w^as  reading 
the  story  of  the  promise  over  to  herself  out  of  some 
parchment  roll  of  the  old  prophets,  or  kneeling  in  the 
quiet  of  her  chamber  with  meek  hands  crossed  upon  her 
breast  making  her  morning  or  evening  prayer  to  God. 
Suddenly  a  voice  sounds — 

'  Without  any  noise 
Being  of  the  silence.     "  Hail/'  it  said, 
Thou  that  art  highly  favoured. 
The  Lord  is  with  thee  here  and  now ; 
Blessed  among  women,  thou.' 

And  Mary  looks  up,  and  lo  !  poised  in  the  air  before 
her,  was  the  angel  Zacharias  saw,  w^ith  shining  wings  out- 
spread and  sweet  grave  face.  He  tells  her  not  to  be 
afraid,  for  she  had  found  favour  with  God.  God  was 
about  to  send  her  a  son,  whose  name  should  be  called 
Jesus,  or  'Saviour.'  He  should  be  great  and  be  called 
the  Son  of  the  Highest,  and  God  would  make  of  Him  a 


.1,..   :.ii..-^,,.\.,i.    i..   .,,;wx 


BIRTH  OF  THE  KING'S  FORERUNNER     13 

mighty  King  who  should  rule  over  His  people,  and 
wliose  kingdom,  unlike  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth,  should 
never  pass  away. 

^Vll  tliis  must  have  sounded  very  wonderful  to  Mary ; 
hut  the  angel  had  not  done  yet.  He  goes  on  to  tell 
her  that  Jesus  should  be  different  from  all  other  children 
in  having  no  earthly  father.  God's  Holy  Spirit  should 
overshadow  Mary,  and  the  little  child  that  should  be 
born  of  her  sliould  be  called  the  Son  of  God. 

Mary  did  not  disbelieve  the  angel's  words  as  Zacharias 
did.  She  could  not  understand  them,  but  she  felt  sure 
they  were  true  and  that  God  would  bring  them  to  pass ; 
and  so  bowing  her  head  in  a  spirit  of  sweet  Immility  she 
meekly  answered,  '  Behold  the  handmaid  of  the  Lord  ;  be 
it  unto  me  according  to  thy  word ' — in  other  words,  '  I 
belong  to  God  ;  let  Him  do  with  me  as  He  sees  fit' 
And  then  the  angel  vanished  and  she  was  left  alone, 
trembling  and  afraid,  and  yet  at  the  same  time  filled  with 
a  great  joy  and  happiness,  as  she  thought  of  all  that 
the  heavenly  message  foreshadowed.  Jesus  the  great 
Deliverer  was  coming,  and  God  had  chosen  her  to  be 
His  mother.     Was  not  this  enough  to  make  her  glad  ? 

The  more  Mary  pondered  over  Gabriel's  message,  the 
more  wonderful  and  glorious  it  seemed.  She  felt  she 
must  have  some  one  to  share  her  happy  secret  with  her. 
She  could  not  keep  it  to  herself.  The  angel,  before  he 
went  back  to  God,  had  told  her  how  God  had  blessed 
Zacharias  and  Elisabeth  as  well,  in  giving  them  the 
promise  of  a  son.  Now  Elisabeth  was  Mary's  cousin, 
and  so  Mary  made  up  her  mind  to  travel  down  to 
Hebron  to  see  her. 

She  would  hardly  be  able  to  take  so  long  a  journey 
by  herself — it  was  nearly  a  hundred  miles, — but  perhaps 
there  would  be  a  caravan  starting  from  Nazareth  at  the 


14  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

time,  and  she  would  go  with  it  for  the  greater  part  of 
the  way. 

When  she  arrived  at  Hebron  she  would  climb  the 
winding,  rocky  path  which  led  to  where  the  house  of 
Elisabeth  stood,  and  as  she  entered  in  at  the  doorway 
Elisabeth  w^ould  hear  her  gentle  voice  raised  in  the 
beautiful  form  of  greeting  common  among  the  Jews, 
'  Peace  be  unto  you,'  and  would  rise  to  embrace  her  with 
words  of  loving  welcome. 

Elisabeth's  first  words  show  that  God's  Holy  Spirit 
had  already  made  it  known  to  her  that  Mary  was  to  be 
the  mother  of  Jesus. 

She  calls  her  '  blessed '  just  as  the  angel  Gabriel  had 
done,  and  speaks  of  her  unworthiness  to  receive  into  her 
house  one  who  is  to  become  the  mother  of  her  Lord. 

And  then,  in  answer  to  her  words,  the  heart  of 
]Mary  that  has  been  so  long  brimming  over  with  thank- 
fulness and  joy  overflows  at  last.  She  lifts  up  her  voice 
in  the  glad  strains  of  that  most  beautiful  of  all  hymns, 
known  to  us  by  its  Latin  name  of  the  Magnificat,  or 
'  song  of  the  heart  that  gives  God  glory.' 

*  My  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord  :  and  my  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  God 
my  Saviour. 

For  He  hath  regarded  :  the  lowHness  of  His  handmaiden. 

For  behold,  from  henceforth  :  all  generations  shall  call  me  blessed. 

For  he  that  is  mighty  hath  magnified  me  :  and  holy  is  His  Name. 

And  His  mercy  is  on  them  that  fear  Him  :  throughout  all  genera- 
tions. 

He  hath  shewed  strength  with  His  arm  :  He  hath  scattered  the  proud 
in  the  imagination  of  their  hearts. 

He  hath  put  down  the  mighty  from  their  seat :  and  hath  exalted  the 
humble  and  meek. 

He  hath  filled  the  hungry  with  good  things :  and  the  rich  He  hath 
sent  empty  away. 

He  remembering  His  mercy  hath  holpen  His  servant  Israel  :  as  He 
promised  to  our  forefathers,  Abraham  and  his  seed  for  ever.' 


BIRTH  OF  THE  KING'S  FORERUNNER    1.5 

So  JNIary  sings  her  song  of  praise  to  God  in  words 
that  can  never  die,  and  in  her  words  we  seem  to  hear  the 
voice  of  the  whole  Church  all  down  the  ages  singing  too, 
and  thanking  God  for  the  gift  of  His  dear  Son,  and 
praising  Him  for  all  the  blessings  His  coming  brought. 

Mary  remained  in  Hebron  for  three  months  and  then 
she  went  back  again  to  Nazareth, 

Soon  afterwards  the  little  son  the  angel  had  promised 
Zacharias  was  born.  What  happy  hearts  there  were  that 
day  in  the  old  priest's  home  !  How  Zacharias  and  Elisa- 
beth must  have  poured  out  their  hearts  in  thankfulness 
to  God  for  His  dear  gift,  which  must  have  seemed 
all  tlie  more  precious  because  it  had  been  so  long  in 
coming  ! 

Zacharias  had  not  yet  recovered  the  use  of  his  speech, 
but  he  was  soon  to  do  so.  Presently  the  appointed  day 
drew  round  for  the  little  child  to  receive  his  name  and  to 
be  made  a  member  of  the  Jewish  Church.  It  was  a  grand 
occasion,  and  many  of  the  old  priest's  friends  and  neigh- 
bours had  come  to  be  present  at  the  ceremony  and  to 
offer  their  good  wishes. 

Every  one  seems  to  have  taken  it  for  granted  that  the 
child  would  receive  the  name  of  Zacharias  after  his  father, 
and  this  name  was  just  about  to  be  given  him  ;  but 
Elisabeth  had  learnt  about  the  angel's  visit  and  the 
command  he  had  given,  and  when  the  priest  was  about 
to  name  the  child  she  stopped  him,  saying,  'Not  so  ;  but 
he  shall  be  called  John.' 

The  friends  were  perplexed  at  this  strange  proceeding. 
Zacharias  was  a  good  name ;  it  had  been  borne  by  one 
of  the  great  prophets  of  old,  and  by  many  of  the  priests 
of  God.  But  Elisabeth  would  not  give  way,  and  so  they 
turned  to  Zacharias  himself.  He  could  not  speak,  and  so 
he  made  signs  for  a  writing  tablet  to  be  brought  him. 


16  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

They  bring  him  a  tablet  covered  with  wax,  with  a  sharp 
pointed  instrument  with  which  to  write  upon  it;  and 
Zacharias  takes  it  and  writes,  and  when  they  come  to 
read  the  writing  they  find  the  words,  '  His  name  is 
John.' 

And  now  since  Zacharias  had  shown  his  faith  in  the 
angel's  words  by  obediently  carrying  out  his  command, 
God  gives  him  back  the  speech  He  had  taken  away  from 
him  because  of  his  unbelief,  and  the  first  words  he  utters 
are  words  of  thankfulness  and  praise  just  as  Mary's  had 
been — 

'  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Israel  :  for  He  hath  visited  and  redeemed 

His  people^ 
And  hath  raised  up  a    mighty  salvation  for  us  :  in  the  house  of  His 

servant  David  ; 
As  He  spake  by  the  mouth  of  His  holy  Prophets :  which  have  been 

since  the  world  began  ; 
That  we  should  be  saved  from  our  enemies  :  and  from  the  hands  of  all 

that  hate  us  ; 
To  perform  the  mercy  promised  to  our  forefathers  :  and  to  remember 

His  holy  Covenant ; 
To  perform  the  oath  which  He  sware  to  our  forefather  Abraham  :  that 

He  would  give  us  ; 
That  we  being  delivered  out  of  the  hand  of  our  enemies  :  might  serve 

Him  without  fear ; 
In  holiness  and  righteousness  before  Him  :  all  the  days  of  our  life. 
And  thou,  child,  shalt  be  called  the  prophet  of  the  Highest:  for  thou 

shalt  go  before  the  face  of  the  Lord  to  prepare  His  ways; 
To   give   knowledge  of  salvation  unto   His  people  :  for  the  remission 

of  their  sins. 
Through  the  tender  mercy  of  our  God  :  whereby  the  Dayspring  from 

on  high  hath  visited  us  ; 
To  give  light  to   them   that   sit  in   darkness,  and   in  the  shadow  of 

death  :  and  to  guide  our  feet  into  the  way  of  peace.' 

After  this  we  hear  no  more  of  Zacharias  and  Elisa- 
beth. They  would  feel  they  had  little  left  to  desire,  now 
that  God  had   granted  their  prayers  and  given  them  a 


BIRTH  OF  THE  KING'S  FORERUNNER    17 

son.  Their  life  work  in  any  ease  would  soon  be  at  an 
end,  and  presently  God  would  call  them  away  from  their 
earthly  home  to  the  better  home  of  Paradise. 

Did  they  live  long  enough  to  tell  the  little  St.  John 
the  story  of  his  birth,  and  to  begin  to  train  him  for  the 
work  God  had  in  store  for  him,  the  work  of  witnessing 
for  Jesus  and  living  a  brave,  unselfish,  and  heroic  life  ? 

We  cannot  tell.  The  Bible  is  silent  about  St.  John's 
early  years,  just  as  it  is  silent,  as  we  shall  presently  see, 
about  the  early  life  of  Jesus.  The  old  painters  love  to 
paint  St.  John  as  a  little  lad  with  lambskin  coat  and 
shepherd's  crook  playing  at  the  side  of  the  infant  Jesus, 
but  we  do  not  know  for  certain  that  St.  John  ever  saw 
Jesus  when  he  was  a  child.  All  we  can  say  is  that,  if 
he  had  no  earthly  teachers,  God  at  any  rate  taught  him ; 
and  trained  in  His  school  he  grew  up  to  be  one  of  the 
most  splendid  characters  of  the  whole  Bible.  Meanwhile, 
as  St.  Luke  tells  us,  he  '  was  in  the  deserts  till  the  day 
of  his  shewing  forth  to  Israel.' 


Ill 

BETHLEHEM 

And  now  let  us  see  how  the  King  of  Glory  came.  It 
was  a  strange  and  wonderful  coming,  the  most  strange 
and  wonderful  the  world  had  ever  seen  or  dreamt  of,  for 
it  was  the  coming  of  God  into  the  world.  And  to  think 
that  the  form  He  chose  to  take  should  be  the  form  of  a 
little  helpless  child ! 

When  Mary  went  back  to  Nazareth  she  did  not  tell 
the  carpenter  Joseph,  to  whom  she  was  betrothed,  the 
wonderful  news  the  angel  had  brought  her.  The  secret 
she  had  learnt  lay  hidden  in  her  heart,  like  a  sweet  flower 
pressed  between  the  pages  of  some  holy  book.  God 
Himself,  however,  revealed  the  truth  to  .Toseph.  As  the 
carpenter  lies  asleep  one  night  he  sees  an  angel  in  his 
dream,  and  the  angel  tells  him  that  Mary  is  to  become 
the  mother  of  God's  Son,  and  that  the  Holy  Child  is  to 
be  called  Jesus,  '  for  He  shall  save  His  people  from  their 
sins.' 

Soon  after  this  Joseph  took  Mary  to  his  home.  It 
was  only  a  poor,  rough  dwelhng-place,  but  it  was  the 
home  of  a  good  man,  and  Mary  would  seek  its  shelter 
with  glad  and  thankful  heart.  Very  reverently  and 
tenderly  would  Joseph  watch  over  the  fair  young  maiden 
whom  God  had  intrusted  to  his  care  until  the  time 
should  come  for  liim  to  act  as  guardian  of  the  Heavenly 
Child  as  well.     That  time  was  now  very  near  at  hand. 


BETHLEHEISI  19 

It  was  winter,  and  the  roads  and  lanes  of  Palestine 
were  all  alive  and  astir  with  travelling  companies.  I..ittle 
groups  of  men  and  women  on  foot  or  in  caravans  were 
passing  and  repassing  one  another  all  day  long  on  their 
way  to  the  different  villages  and  towns.  For  a  great 
census,  or  numbering  of  the  people,  was  taking  place 
throughout  the  whole  world  by  command  of  the  Roman 
Emperor,  and  every  Jew  must  go  to  have  his  name 
written  down  in  the  town  or  village  in  which  he  was 
born,  or  to  which  his  family  belonged. 

The  Bible  tells  us  that  Joseph  and  Mary,  though  only 
poor  peasant  people,  really  belonged  to  the  royal  house  of 
Judah.  They  traced  their  descent  from  David,  Israel's 
greatest  king,  and  since  their  great  forefather  had  been 
born  in  the  little  village  of  Bethlehem  of  Juda?a,  they 
were  obliged  to  make  their  wa)^  down  from  Nazareth  to 
Bethlehem  in  order  that  the  Emperor's  orders  might  be 
carried  out. 

Bethlehem  is  some  eighty  miles  distant  from  Nazareth, 
and  it  would  take  them  quite  four  or  five  days  to  reach 
it,  for  they  would  be  obliged  to  travel  very  slowly.  We 
can  picture  them  on  their  way  to  the  south  country — 
Joseph  on  foot  with  his  staff  in  his  hand,  and  loving, 
gentle  Mary  by  his  side  in  her  cloak  of  blue,  riding  on 
an  ass. 

Many  the  busy  cities  and  famous  towns  they  would 
pass  through  after  leaving  Nazareth — Jezreel,  once  the 
capital  of  wicked  King  Ahab ;  Dothan,  in  whose  fields 
the  brethren  of  Joseph  fed  their  flocks ;  Shiloh,  where 
the  child  Samuel  ministered  before  the  Lord  clad  in  his 
linen  ephod ;  Bethel,  where  Jacob  slept  with  a  stone 
for  his  pillow  and  dreamed  of  the  golden  ladder  and  the 
angels. 

These  and  many  other  famous  places  they  would  see. 


20  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

until  at  last  Jerusalem, '  the  City  of  the  Great  King,'  with 
its  splendid  Temple  and  its  shining  towers,  would  rise 
before  their  eyes,  and  they  would  climb  the  rocky  heights 
upon  which  it  stood,  and  stand  with  glad  and  thankful 
hearts  within  its  gates. 

And  now  their  journey  would  be  almost  done.  It 
was  growing  dusk,  and  the  purple  twilight  was  already 
gathering  in  the  distant  west,  when  perhaps  they  would 
catch  their  first  glimpse  of  Bethlehem.  We  can  imagine 
the  joy  with  which  they  would  gaze  on  the  scene  before 
them — the  long  ridge  of  hills  with  the  little  white  town 
resting  peacefully  upon  it  like  a  dove  brooding  upon  its 
nest.  How  thankful  they  would  be  when  the  roadway, 
winding  up  through  many  a  terrace  of  silvery  olive-trees 
and  grape  vines  bursting  into  leaf,  brought  them  at  last 
into  the  steep  and  narrow  streets  of  the  little  village. 

They  would  easily  find  their  way  to  the  village  khan 
or  inn,  for  there  would  be  a  lantern  slung  on  a  rope  in 
front  of  the  entrance  as  a  guide  to  travellers.  But  when 
they  reached  the  inn  and  asked  for  shelter  they  found 
they  had  come  too  late.  Every  room  was  full.  At  least 
this  is  what  the  innkeeper  tells  them.  Perhaps  he  sees 
that  they  are  poor,  with  little  money  to  spend,  and  there 
are  so  many  important  people  to  be  attended  to.  Rich 
traders  travelhng  hke  princes,  their  camels'  necks  all 
hung  with  chains  of  gold,  corn  merchants  from  Alex- 
andria, whose  swift  ships  have  brought  them  over  the  sea 
as  far  as  Ceesarea,  learned  doctors  of  the  law,  nobles  who 
claim  descent  from  kings  of  old,  and  many  more.  Why 
should  he  trouble  himself  about  two  poor,  unknown 
strangers  such  as  they  ? 

And  yet,  they  are  travel-stained  and  weary,  and  he 
cannot  find  it  in  his  heart  to  turn  them  quite  away.  The 
inn  of  Bethlehem  was  a  sort  of  hollow  square,  built  of 


BETHI.EHEINI  21 

rough  blocks  of  stone,  with  arched  chambers  running  all 
round  it,  where  the  guests  could  spread  their  sleeping 
mats  and  take  their  meals.  It  rested  against  the  green 
hillside,  and  near  it  was  a  cave  scooped  out  of  the  rock, 
which  served  as  a  stable  for  the  beasts.  Mary  and 
Joseph  are  told  they  may  rest  if  it  pleases  them  in  this 
cave.  It  would  at  any  rate  be  a  refuge  from  the  cold, 
and  there  was  clear  water  to  drink,  and  the  straw  was 
clean. 

And  so,  thankful  even  for  such  a  poor  shelter  as  this, 
they  turn  their  steps  to  the  stable  and  enter  in.  And 
that  night  Jesus  is  born. 

Think  of  it.  Jesus,  the  King  of  Glory,  by  whom  all 
things  were  made,  came  into  the  world  that  first  Christ- 
mas night  a  tiny  baby.  The  Lord  of  Heaven  and  Earth 
stooped  to  be  born  in  a  stable.  We  could  not  have 
dreamed  of  such  a  wonderful  thing  as  this  had  we  not 
been  told  about  it.  And  yet  it  happened  just  as  I  have 
said.  God  became  Man.  He  took  our  nature  upon  Him 
in  order  that  He  might  bring  the  lost  world  back  again 
to  Himself.  There  was  nothing  to  draw  Him  down  from 
Heaven  except  His  love.  But  He  loved  us  and  wanted 
to  save  us,  and  so  He  came.  How  startled  the  guests  in 
that  little  inn  of  Bethlehem  would  have  been  had  they 
known  about  His  coming.  But  no  one  brought  them  the 
news.     Only  JNIary  and  the  angels  knew. 

There  are  some  very  old  stories,  called  legends, 
which  tell  us  that  many  wonderful  things  happened 
at  Jesus'  birth.  One  of  these  old  stories  says  that  at 
the  moment  when  Jesus  was  born  everything  in  nature 
suddenly  stopped  still  as  though  imder  a  spell — birds 
in  the  air  with  outspread  wings,  sheep  in  the  act  of 
browsing  upon  the  mountains,  cattle  with  necks 
stretched    out  to    drink,   all  (piite   still    and    motionless. 


22  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

While  yet  another  story  tells  us  how  the  oxen  and 
asses  of  the  cave  came  and  knelt  before  the  Infant 
Jesus,  and  owned  Him  as  their  maker.  But  these  are  not 
Bible  stories,  and  we  need  not  linger  over  them.  Had 
you  entered  that  lowly  cave  on  the  first  Christmas  night 
you  would  not  have  noticed  anything  very  wonderful — 
just  a  young  mother  bending  tenderly  over  a  little  child 
wrapped  in  swaddling  bands  and  lying  in  a  manger.  Only 
the  stable  was  full  of  angels,  we  may  be  sure  of  that. 
Jesus,  we  like  to  think,  always  went  about  attended  by 
the  holy  angels,  and  they  would  not  be  absent  at  His 
birth.  St.  Michael  in  his  golden  armour  would  be  there, 
and  Gabriel  with  his  lily.  All  the  hosts  of  Heaven 
would  come  crowding  in,  '  for  when  He  bringeth  the 
First-begotten  into  the  world  He  saith.  And  let  all  the 
angels  of  God  worship  Him.' 

But  it  is  time  for  us  to  think  of  another  scene  outside 
the  stable  where  Jesus  lies.  Lying  out  on  the  hills 
around  Bethlehem  on  Christmas  night  were  a  great 
number  of  shepherds,  keeping  guard  over  their  many 
flocks  of  sheep.  For  the  pasture  land  of  Bethlehem  was 
good,  and  it  was  there  that  the  sheep  and  lambs  which 
were  used  for  the  Temple  sacrifices  were  chiefly  reared. 
Now  it  was  to  a  little  group  of  these  shepherds  that  God 
saw  fit  first  to  announce  the  birth  of  Jesus  Christ.  They 
had  led  their  sheep  into  the  shelter  of  the  fold  and 
had  lighted  a  fire  near  the  watch-tower  to  scare  oft'  any 
wild  beast  that  might  be  prowling  around,  and  now  they 
were  sleeping,  some  of  them,  with  their  heads  muffled  in 
their  long  striped  cloaks,  while  others  took  their  turn  in 
keeping  watch.  Nothing  stirred.  It  was  all  quite  still 
and  peaceful.  The  silver  moon  was  shining  over  the  hills 
and  the  great  stars  were  looking  down  from  Heaven,  just 
as  they  had  looked  down  night  after  night  upon  David 


IHK    A\(.l:;i.    AND     1111-;    SllKl'Hr.KKS 


BETHLEHEM  23 

the  shepherd  lad  as  he  guarded  his  sheep  upon  the  same 
hills  so  many  hundreds  of  years  before.  The  only  sound 
to  be  heard  was  now  and  again  the  bleating  of  a  lamb  or 
the  distant  bark  of  a  sheep-dog. 

15ut  now  a  w^onderful  thing  happened.  Suddenly  a 
great  light  from  Heaven  shines  all  around  these  shep- 
herds, dazzling  their  eyes  and  lighting  up  the  place  where 
they  were  with  strange,  unearthly  brightness.  They  look 
up,  and  slowly  out  of  the  glory  around  them  comes  the 
pure  and  lovely  form  of  a  great  angel.  Terrified  and 
bewildered,  they  fall  upon  their  faces,  and  then  the  angel 
speaks,  and  his  voice  is  sweet  and  his  words  are  full  of 
comfort.  He  tells  them  not  to  be  afraid,  for  he  has  come 
to  bring  them  glad  tidings  of  great  joy  which  shall  be 
to  all  people.  Jesus  had  come,  the  Saviour  so  long 
expected.  God  had  sent  His  Son  at  last.  He  had  been 
born  that  very  night  at  Bethlehem. 

And  then  he  gives  them  a  sign  whereby  they  may 
know  that  this  is  so.  '  Ye  shall  find  the  Babe  wTapped  in 
swaddling  clothes,  lying  in  a  manger.'  So  his  message 
ends,  and  lo !  as  he  ceases,  the  gates  of  Heaven  roll  back 
and  the  whole  sky  growls  white  with  silver  wings,  and  the 
air  is  full  of  the  sound  of  angel  voices  praising  God,  and 
saying,  '  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace, 
good  will  towards  men.'  It  was  the  first  Christmas  carol. 
The  world  had  never  heard  a  song  like  that  before. 

'  It  came  upon  the  midnight  clear^ 

That  glorious  song  of  old, 
From  angels  bending  near  the  earth 

To  touch  their  harps  of  gold. 
Peace  on  the  earth,  good  will  to  men. 

From  Heaven's  all-gracious  King — 
The  world  in  solemn  stillness  lay 

To  hear  the  angels  sing.' 


24  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

And  now,  this  lovely  song  at  an  end,  the  angels  went 
back  again  to  Heaven  as  suddenly  as  they  had  come,  and 
the  glory  that  lay  upon  the  hills  died  out  and  there  were 
only  the  great  white  stars  to  be  seen  looking  down  from 
the  sky  as  before. 

How  full  of  joy  and  wonder  the  hearts  of  the  shep- 
herds must  have  been  we  can  only  dimly  guess.  Their 
one  thought  was  to  go  at  once  to  Bethlehem  to  see 
whether  it  was  really  as  the  angel  had  said.  They  could 
not  wait  till  morning.  There  in  the  distance  still 
twinkled  the  lights  of  Bethlehem  ;  and  so,  girding  their 
cloaks  around  them,  they  make  their  way  up  the  hill 
until  they  find  themselves  in  the  well-known  street  where 
the  inn  was. 

And  there  in  the  stable  just  as  the  angel  had  said  they 
found  Joseph  and  Mary,  and  the  little  Child  lying  in  the 
manger.  There  was  no  ring  of  golden  mist  about  His 
head,  no  burning  light  streamed  from  His  tender  body. 
He  looked  just  like  any  other  baby.  But  they  did  not 
mind  that.  In  that  little  helpless  Child  'they,  the 
shepherds,  saw  the  Good  Shepherd  who  came  to  lay 
down  His  life  for  the  sheep.'  They  believed  the  angel's 
words,  and  kneeling  down  beside  His  cradle,  and  joining 
their  rough  hands  together,  they  worshipped  Him,  and 
returned  to  their  watch-tower,  praising  and  blessing  God 
for  all  they  had  heard  and  seen  at  Bethlehem. 


1 


THE   VISIT   OK   'IHK   SHKPHKKD 


IV 

THE    CIRCUMCISION    AND    PRESENTATION    IN    THE    TEMPLE 

For  some  time  Joseph  and  Mary  lived  quietly  on  in  the 
little  town  where  Jesus  was  born.  They  would  soon  be 
able  to  find  another  and  a  better  shelter  than  the  stable, 
although  at  best  it  would  be  but  a  very  humble  lodging. 

Jesus  from  the  very  first  willed  to  live  a  life  of  poverty. 
'  Though  He  was  rich,'  says  St.  Peter,  '  yet  for  our  sakes 
He  became  poor.'  He  remained  poor  all  His  life.  Later 
on,  when  He  grew  up  to  be  a  great  Teacher,  He  was  with- 
out a  home  at  all,  for  we  read  that  when  one  who  wanted 
to  become  His  disciple  said  to  Him,  '  Master,  I  will  follow 
Thee  whithersoever  Thou  goest,'  He  answered  sadly, 
'  The  foxes  have  holes,  and  the  birds  of  the  air  have  nests, 
but  the  Son  of  Man  hath  not  where  to  lay  His  head.' 

But  though  the  lodging  might  be  poor  and  bare  there 
was  always  Mary's  love  to  brighten  and  gladden  it,  and 
clasped  to  her  tender  breast  the  little  Jesus  would  feel 
neither  cold  nor  hunger. 

Very  tenderly  would  ^lary  watch  over  her  little  Child 
as  He  lay  in  her  arms  looking  up  at  her  with  His  grave, 
wide-open  eyes.  When  He  cried — for  He  would  cry  at 
times—she  would  rock  Him  to  sleep,  singing  the  while 
perhaps,  with  sweet,  low  voice,  snatches  from  one  of  the 
old  Psalms.  AVhen  He  awoke  from  sleep  she  would  be 
at  hand  to  minister  to  His  every  need.  And  all  the  while 
her  heart  would  throb  and  tremble  with  a  great  joy  and 


26  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

wonder,  and  over  and  over  again  she  would  thank  the 
great  God  for  His  goodness  in  choosing  her  out  of  all  the 
world  to  be  the  mother  of  His  dear  Son. 

And  so  the  first  week  of  Jesus'  earthly  life  passed  by. 

On  the  eighth  day  He  was  circumcised.  Every  little 
Jewish  boy  was  circumcised  when  he  was  eight  days  old. 
Circumcision  was  the  solemn  rite  by  which  he  was  ad- 
mitted into  the  Jewish  Church,  and  bound  over  to  serve 
God  and  keep  His  commandments  ;  it  was  at  his  circum- 
cision too  that  he  received  his  name.  On  the  eighth  day 
then  Jesus  was  either  taken  into  the  little  Bethlehem 
synagogue  or  else  carried  across  the  hills  to  the  Temple, 
to  be  made  'obedient'  in  this  way  'to  the  law.'  There 
was  no  difficulty  about  His  name,  for  Mary  would  not 
forget  tlie  angel's  message,  '  Thou  shalt  call  His  name 
Jesus.' 

Joshua  or  Jesus  wa,s  a  common  name  among  the  Jews, 
and  it  would  excite  no  wonder  that  Mary's  Child  should 
be  called  by  it.  No  one  would  guess  how  far  greater 
than  .Joshua,  the  brave  captain  of  the  hosts  of  Israel,  the 
new  Joshua  would  prove ;  how  far  more  wonderful  would 
be  His  life  and  death  ;  how  far  more  splendid  and  lasting 
the  victories  He  would  win. 

Thirty-three  days  later  Mary,  accompanied  by  Joseph, 
went  up  to  the  Temple  to  return  thanks  openly  to  God 
and  to  make  Him  an  offisring,  as  the  Jewish  law  directed 
every  mother  to  do  at  the  birth  of  her  little  child.  Leav- 
ing Bethlehem  very  early  in  the  morning,  they  would 
reach  the  Temple  gates  just  as  the  silver  trumpets  pealed 
forth  for  the  morning  service,  and  the  Temple  choir  was 
preparing  to  chant  the  psalm  for  the  day  to  the  music  of 
the  Temple  band. 

They  would  make  their  way  through  the  outer  gate 
into  tlie  lowest  and  largest  court  on  which  the  marble 


PRESENTATION  IN  THE  TEJNIPLE        27 

cloisters  opened,  when,  no  doubt,  they  would  find  other 
niotliers  waiting,  bound  on  the  same  errand  as  Mary  was. 
There  they  would  rest  awhile,  until  presently  the  great 
gate  tliat  opened  into  the  inner  court  swung  slowly  open 
and  a  band  of  white-robed  Levites  would  appear  to  receive 
the  various  offerings  that  had  been  brought,  and  to  carry 
them  away  to  be  burned  on  the  great  Temple  altar  of 
unhewn  stone,  when  the  morning  sacrifice  was  at  an 
end. 

By  the  Jewish  law  every  mother  was  expected  to  bring 
a  lamb  with  her  as  an  offering,  but  if  she  was  not  rich 
enough  to  buy  a  lamb  she  was  allowed  to  bring  a  pair  of 
turtledoves  or  two  young  pigeons  instead. 

Now  Joseph  was  only  a  poor  village  carpenter,  and  so 
although  a  lamb  would  not  have  cost  very  much,  Mary 
was  obliged  to  be  content  with  two  white  doves  as  her 
offering.  She  w^ould  perhaps  bring  them  in  a  wicker 
basket  from  Bethlehem,  or  what  is  more  likely  would  buy 
them  at  the  Temple  itself,  for  there  was  a  Temple  officer, 
we  are  told,  who  used  to  keep  flocks  of  pigeons  on  pur- 
pose to  sell  to  those  who  needed  them  for  such  sacrifices 
as  hers. 

And  yet  though  Mary  could  not  afford  to  offer  a  lamb 
she  had  really  something  far  more  precious  and  wonderful 
to  offer,  for  '  she  who  was  too  poor  to  bring  a  lamb  brings 
with  her  the  true  I^amb,  the  Lamb  of  God.' 

Yes,  for  all  the  while  the  little  Jesus  lay  in  her  arms. 

Mary  had  not  only  come  to  offer  a  sacrifice  for  herself ; 
she  had  brought  .Tesus  to  be  presented  in  the  Temple  as 
well — the  little  '  Lamb  of  God  without  blemish  and  with- 
out spot.' 

For  this  was  another  custom  among  the  Jews.  Every 
first-born  son  must  be  brought  to  be  presented  to  the  I^ord 
forty  days  after  his  birth.     It  was  God's  way  of  remind- 


28  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

ing  the  Jews  that  all  their  children  belonged  to  Him  by 
right  and  that  He  claimed  their  service  and  their  devotion 
as  His  due.  The  custom  was  a  very  old  one.  It  had 
come  down  from  the  time  when  the  children  of  Israel 
were  bondmen  in  the  iron  furnace  of  Egypt.  God,  you 
remember,  had  sent  His  Angel  of  Pestilence  and  had 
slain  all  the  first-born  in  the  land  on  account  of  the  sin 
of  Pharaoh.  But  He  had  spared  His  own  people.  By 
the  direction  of  JNIoses  they  had  sprinkled  the  lintel  and 
the  side-posts  of  the  houses  with  blood,  and  when  the 
angel  saw  the  blood-marks  he  passed  over  the  houses 
with  sheathed  sword. 

To  keep  in  inemory  this  great  deliverance,  God  ordained 
that  every  first-born  son  should  be  set  aside  as  belonging 
in  a  special  way  to  Himself.  And  so  the  custom  arose 
for  every  mother  to  bring  her  first  little  boy  to  God's 
House  directly  he  M^as  old  enough,  and  present  him  to 
God  to  serve  as  a  priest  in  His  Holy  Temple. 

By  paying  a  few  silver  coins  into  the  Temple  treasury, 
however,  it  was  possible  to  redeem  or  buy  back  the 
child  that  had  been  offered  in  this  way  to  God. 

The  father  and  mother  would  bring  their  little  baby 
and  lay  him  before  the  priest  and  tell  him  that  they  had 
brought  their  first-born  son  to  dedicate  him  to  God. 
The  priest  would  then  ask  them  if  it  was  their  wish  to 
redeem  the  child,  and  on  their  answering  '  yes  '  he  would 
take  tlie  five  pieces  of  silver  they  offered  him  and  give 
the  child  back  into  his  mother's  arms,  first  of  all  laying 
his  hand  on  its  head,  with  the  prayer  that  God  would 
bless  and  guard  the  child  and  keep  it  from  all  evil  and 
bring  it  in  the  end  to  His  everlasting  kingdom.  Joseph 
and  Mary  presented  the  little  Jesus  in  this  way,  and  when 
the  money  had  been  paid  and  the  blessing  had  been  given 
they  turned  to  leave  the  Temple. 


THE   PRKSENTATION    IN    "J  HK   TKMPLK 


PRESENTATION  IN  THE  TEMPLE         29 

There  would  be  many  worshippers  passing  to  and  fro 
amid  the  marble  cloisters,  but  JNlary  and  her  Child  would 
attract  little  notice.  Those  who  glanced  at  her  could  see 
only  a  poor  peasant  woman  from  Galilee  holding  a  little 
peasant  child  to  her  breast.  But  there  were  two  people 
at  least  whose  eyes  God  touched  and  to  whom  He  gave 
the  gift  of  vision.  One  was  the  old  man  Simeon.  We 
are  not  told  much  about  him  in  the  Bible.  Simply  that 
he  was  a  good  man — one  who  loved  God  and  his  neigh- 
bour, and  went  regularly  to  the  Temple  to  worship  God. 
For  many  years  he  had  lived  his  quiet,  uneventful  life  in 
Jerusalem,  seeking  to  brighten  the  lot  of  the  sorrowful 
and  the  poor  around  him,  and  doing  his  best  to  serve  God 
fait li fully  and  well.  The  grand  world  knew  little  about 
Simeon,  but  God  thought  well  of  him,  so  well  that  He 
granted  him  a  privilege  He  denied  to  others.  He  gave 
him  the  welcome  promise  that  he  should  not  die  until  his 
eyes  had  been  gladdened  by  the  sight  of  the  Saviour  of  the 
world. 

Years  passed  on  and  Simeon  s  eyes  began  to  grow  dim 
and  the  sands  of  his  life  were  beginning  to  run  out.  Still 
there  was  God's  promise  ever  before  him  like  some  bright 
star  seen  through  the  branches  of  a  wood,  and  he  often 
pondered  over  it  and  looked  forward  with  steadfast  heart 
to  the  hour  of  its  fulfilment. 

There  must  have  been  much — especially  now  that  he 
was  growing  old,  and  there  was  no  sign  of  Jesus'  coming 
— to  tempt  him  to  lose  heart  at  times,  but  through  all  the 
passing  years  he  still  held  fast  to  his  faith.  God  had 
promised — that  was  enough  for  him.  Deep  down  in  liis 
heart  those  words  of  David  made  for  themselves  a  home, 
•  Hope  thou  in  the  Lord  and  keep  His  way,  and  He  shall 
bring  it  to  pass.' 

And  God  does  bring  it  to  pass. 


30  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

One  day  he  comes  into  the  Temple  according  to  his 
usual  custom.  But  it  is  no  accident  that  has  led  him 
there  at  this  particular  time ;  it  is  God  who  directs  the 
old  man's  steps.  While  he  is  there,  lifting  up  his  heart 
in  earnest  prayer  to  God — asking  Him  perhaps  to  hasten 
the  Saviour's  coming  or  give  him  patience  to  wait  for  it — 
lo !  a  little  Child  passes  by  in  the  arms  of  his  mother. 
She  is  a  poor  working  woman,  and  her  husband,  who 
walks  by  her  side,  seems  by  his  dress  to  be  a  carpenter ; 
but  something — Some  One — speaks  to  Simeon's  heart 
and  tells  him  that  the  crowning  moment  of  his  life 
has  come,  that  Jesus,  'the  Desire  of  the  Nations,'  is 
before  him.  And  the  old  man  rises  to  his  feet  and 
comes  forward  and  takes  the  Child  into  his  trembling 
arms. 

Long  and  earnestly  he  gazes  into  His  face,  while  tears 
of  joy  run  down  his  withered  cheeks.  Oh,  how  good 
God  has  been  to  him  !  how  He  has  blessed  him  in  grant- 
ing him  a  vision  that  all  the  long  line  of  Israel's  prophets 
and  kings  had  desired  to  see  and  had  never  seen.  He 
can  die  happy  now.  There  is  nothing  left  to  live  for 
after  this.  And  as  he  gazes,  his  joy  finds  utterance  in 
glad  words  of  thankfulness  and  praise,  and  he  bursts  forth 
into  the  lovely  strains  of  the  hymn  which  we  know  by  its 
Latin  name  of  the  '  Nunc  Dimittis  ' : 

'  Lord,  now  lettest  Thou  Thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  according 
to  Thy  Word  : 
For  mine  eyes  have  seen  Thy  salvation, 
Which  Thou  hast  prepared  before  the  face  of  all  people ; 
To  be  a  light  to  hghten  the  Gentiles :  and  to  be  the  glory 
of  Thy  people  Israel.' 

So  Simeon  raises  his  song  of  thankfulness  to  God,  and 
now  he  turns  to  Mary  who  is  standing  by  and  watching 


PRESENTATION  IN  THE  TEMPLE         m 

him  witli  lier  wondering  eyes,  and  his  words  take  a  sadder 
tone. 

He  tells  her  that  while  some  would  believe  on  her 
little  Child  and  take  Him  for  their  Saviour,  others  would 
reject  Him  and  so  lose  the  gift  of  pardon  and  of  life  He 
came  to  bring ;  that  Jesus'  path  would  be  a  liard  and 
thorny  one  to  tread,  and  that  He  would  meet  with  ill-will 
and  hatred  instead  of  a  loving  welcome  from  the  world 
'  He  was  willing  with  all  His  heart '  to  save.  And  then 
Simeon  adds  strange  words  about  a  sword,  which  he  says 
shall  pierce  through  JNIary's  soul.  What  did  he  mean  ? 
we  wonder.  1  think,  dear  child,  God  must  have  shown 
him  the  picture  of  a  cross  upon  a  hill  and  a  poor  mother 
standing  beneath  it,  broken-hearted  because  her  Son  was 
in  pain  and  dying,  and  she  could  only  stand  and  look  and 
look  and  do  nothing  to  help  Him.  The  cross  was  the 
Cross  of  Jesus,  and  the  mother  standing  there  was  JNIary 
herself.  It  was  a  prophecy,  spoken,  you  see,  at  the  very 
beginning  of  Jesus'  earthly  life,  of  the  cruel  death  He  was 
afterwards  to  die. 

What  Mary  thought  of  Simeon's  words  we  are  not 
told,  but  for  the  first  time  a  shadow  must  have  fallen  on 
her  gentle  heart — the  shadow  of  the  cross  of  which  Simeon 
spoke.  Hitherto  she  had  been  so  proud  and  happy. 
Never  a  thought  or  dream  of  sorrow  or  of  pain  had  come 
to  her  in  connection  with  her  little  child,  but  now  God 
would  begin  to  make  her  understand  that  Jesus'  life 
would  not  be  all  joy  and  sunshine,  but  that  suffering  and 
sadness  must  mingle  with  it,  and  that  in  the  end  it  would 
be  dark  with  the  shadows  of  seeming  failure  and  of 
death. 

Slowly  and  painfully  Mary  was  to  learn  that  lesson, 
but  God  gave  her  strength  and  courage  to  learn  it,  and 
we  know  how  her  sorrow  was  turned  into  joy  at  last  when 


32  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

the  gloom  and  sadness  of  Good  Friday  passed  away,  and 
the  light  and  glory  of  the  first  Easter  morning  broke  upon 
the  world. 

And  now,  as  Simeon  makes  an  end  of  speaking,  an  old 
woman,  bent  low  with  years,  named  Anna,  draws  near. 
She  too  had  caught  sight  of  the  Christ  Child,  and  to  her 
as  well  as  to  Simeon  it  was  revealed  that  the  Lord  whom 
she  had  been  longing  all  her  life  to  see  had  that  morning 
suddenly  come  to  His  Temple.  She  was  a  wddow  and 
belonged  to  the  tribe  of  Aser,  the  '  happy '  tribe  whose 
home  of  old  lay  in  the  same  beautiful  north  country  from 
which  Joseph  and  Mary  had  come,  a  country  bright  with 
the  silver  of  many  olive-trees,  and  smiling  with  its  sunny 
cornfields  and  long  stretches  of  clustering  vines. 

Like  Simeon,  she  had  learnt  to  love  God's  House  with 
all  her  heart,  and  to  find  her  best  and  greatest  joy  in  its 
services.  Indeed,  St.  Luke  tells  us  she  never  left  the 
Temple,  '  but  served  God '  there  '  with  fastings  and 
prayers  night  and  day.'  And  now,  just  as  she  is  about  to 
die,  He  who  is  the  glory  of  the  Temple  reveals  Himself 
to  her,  and  the  place  in  which  He  chooses  to  appear  is  just 
the  very  place  where  all  her  life  she  had  sought  His 
presence — 

'  0\\,  how  amiable  are  Thy  dwelHngs,  Thou  Lord  of  hosts  ! 
My  soul  hath  a  desire  and  longing  to  enter  into  the  courts 

of  the  Lord  :  my  heart  and  my  flesh  rejoice  in  the  living  God. 
Yea,  the  sparrow  hath  found  her  an  house 
And  the  swallow  a  nest  where  she  may  lay  her  young. 
Even  Thy  altars,  O  Lord  of  Hosts,  my  King  and  my  God. 
Blessed  are  they  who  dwell  in  Thy  House  : 
They  will  be  always  praising  Thee.' 

So  David  sang  of  old,  and  as  we  think  of  Anna  we 
cannot  help  echoing  his  words.  She,  too,  dwelt  in  God's 
House,  and  she  was  blest  in  dwelling  there.     For  did  not 


PRESENTATION  IN  THE  TEMPLE        33 

God  give  her  the  best  blessing  of  all  ?  He  showed  her 
the  face  of  Jesus.  How  could  she  help  praising  Him 
for  His  goodness  ?  And  so  she  too,  like  Simeon,  '  gave 
thanks  unto  the  Lord,'  and  having  seen  Jesus  in  the 
Temple,  went  about  telling  the  glad  news  that  He  had 
come,  to  all  those  who,  like  herself,  had  long  been  waiting 
and  watching  for  His  appearance. 


THE    VISIT    OF   THE    WISE    MEN — THE    MURDER    OF   THE 
INNOCENTS 

We  have  seen  how  a  few  poor  shepherds  were  the  first 
to  welcome  the  new-born  King  as  He  lay  in  the  manger 
of  Bethlehem.  Soon  afterwards  God  sent  the  Christ 
Child  other  visitors — men  greater  and  of  higher  rank  than 
they — who  came  from  a  land  very  far  off  to  kneel  beside 
His  cradle  and  do  Him  homage.  These  were  the  wise 
men  from  the  East.  You  remember  how  the  old  man 
Simeon  in  the  Temple  foretold  that  Jesus  should  be  a 
Light  to  lighten  the  Gentiles,  as  well  as  the  Glory  of  His 
people  Israel.  God  in  other  words  revealed  to  him  the 
great  truth  that  the  little  Child  he  held  in  his  arms  had 
come  not  only  as  the  Saviour  of  the  Jews  but  of  the 
whole  world.  This  truth  was  no  new  one  indeed.  We 
find  it  shining  in  letters  of  gold  upon  the  pages  of  many 
a  psalm  and  prophecy  written  hundreds  of  years  before 
Christ  came.  Perhaps,  for  example,  as  Simeon  spoke,  he 
was  thinking  of  the  prophet  Isaiah's  words,  *  And  He 
said,  It  is  a  light  thing  that  Thou  shouldest  be  my  servant 
to  raise  up  the  tribes  of  Jacob.  ...  I  will  also  give  Thee 
for  a  Light  to  the  Gentiles  that  Thou  mayest  be  my 
salvation  unto  the  end  of  the  earth.' 

But  in  course  of  time  the  Jews  had  lost  sight  of  God's 
purpose.  They  thought  of  the  Christ  who  should  come 
in  the  light  of  a  Deliverer,  who  belonged  by  rights  to 


THE  VISIT  OF  THE  WISE  MEN  35 

themselves  alone,  and  it  was  to  teach  the  old  lesson  again 
to  a  people  that  had  almost  forgotten  it,  that  God  put  it 
into  the  heart  of  certain  wise  men  to  leave  their  home 
beyond  the  eastern  mountains,  and  to  make  the  journey 
of  which  we  are  about  to  think. 

Who  the  wise  men  were  we  do  not  know.  Some 
have  thought  that  they  were  eastern  kings,  clad  in 
jewelled  robes  and  wearing  crowns  of  gold  upon  their 
heads.  Bede,  an  old  Anglo-Saxon  chronicler  and  monk, 
not  only  tells  us  that  they  were  kings,  but  even  gives  us 
their  names  and  describes  their  appearance.  They  were 
three  in  number,  he  says,  and  their  names  were  Melchior, 
Caspar,  and  Balthasar.  The  first  was  an  old  man  with 
snow-white  hair  and  beard,  the  second  a  ruddy,  slender 
youth,  the  third  a  man  swarthy  and  strong  and  in  the 
prime  of  life. 

The  Bible,  however,  simply  calls  them  'wise,'  and  says 
they  came  from  the  East.  Of  one  thing,  however,  about 
them  we  may  be  quite  sure,  and  that  is  that  they  were 
not  idolaters,  but  worshippers  of  the  one  true  God.  It 
was  with  them  just  as  it  had  been  with  Simeon.  Because 
they  were  true-hearted,  holy  men,  God  crowned  their 
lives  by  showing  them  His  Son.  They  lived  up  to  the 
light  He  gave  them,  and  it  led  them  at  last  to  the  Light 
of  life. 

The  wise  men  seem  to  have  known  something  at  any 
rate  of  the  history  of  the  promise.  In  their  far-off  home 
— whether  among  the  flat,  sandy  plains  of  Babylon  or  in 
the  beautiful  flowery  land  of  Persia — rumours  had  reached 
them  of  the  great  Deliverer  who  was  about  to  come. 
A  prophet  named  Balaam,  many  hundreds  of  years  before, 
had  proclaimed  upon  the  mountains  of  ^loab  that  a  Star 
should  come  out  of  Jacob,  and  a  Sceptre  should  rise  out 
of  Israel.    Perhaps  the  memory  of  his  words  still  lingered 


36  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

in  the  East,  and  the  wise  men  had  pondered  over  them, 
and  were  eagerly  awaiting  some  sign  that  their  fulfihnent 
was  near  at  hand. 

One  night  God  gives  them  this  sign.  He  sends  them 
a  message  by  a  star. 

From  the  earhest  times  the  nations  of  the  East  had 
loved  to  study  the  heavens,  and  note  the  order  and  move- 
ments of  the  stars.  It  was  a  common  belief  that  the 
stars  influenced  mens'  lives,  and  that  the  birth  of  princes, 
and  the  fate  of  kings,  and  all  kinds  of  wonderful  events 
could  be  foretold  by  keeping  a  watch  upon  them,  as  hour 
by  hour  they  threaded  their  way  through  the  trackless 
heavens,  moved  by  the  invisible  hand  of  God.  Now  it 
may  well  have  happened  that  the  wise  men  were  engaged 
in  this  very  study  on  the  night  I  am  thinking  of. 

Darkness  had  fallen ;  innumerable  stars  were  be- 
ginning to  dint  the  purple  sky  with  their  tiny  silver 
points,  when  suddenly  a  new  and  lovely  star,  quite  unlike 
any  they  have  ever  seen  before,  swims  into  sight.  As 
they  gaze  in  wonder,  God  in  some  mysterious  way  makes 
known  to  them  that  it  is  the  herald  of  Jesus'  birth,  and 
they  understand  that  the  Desire  of  the  nations  has  come 
at  last,  and  that  the  star  has  been  sent  to  guide  them  to 
His  feet. 

What  a  wonderful  star  that  must  have  been  !  There 
is  a  legend  which  tells  us  that  it  was  like  a  ball  of  fire, 
very  large  and  bright,  and  that  as  the  wise  men  gazed 
upon  it  in  awe  and  wonder,  they  saw  the  form  of  a  little 
Child  within  it,  and  over  Him  the  sign  of  the  holy  cross. 
And  it  goes  on  to  say  that  a  voice  spoke  to  them  from  the 
star,  and  bade  them  journey  forth  to  the  land  of  Judaea. 

But  whatever  the  form  or  appearance  of  the  star,  the 
wise  men  had  no  doubt  that  God  had  sent  it,  and  at  once 
they  made  up  their  minds  to  follow  it  into  the  unknown 


THE  VISIT  OF  THE  WISE  MEN  87 

West,  whither  it  seemed  to  be  beckoning  them.  There 
would  be  many  difficulties  in  the  way  of  such  a  journey. 
If  they  were  really  of  princely  rank  it  would  not  be  an 
easy  thing  to  leave  their  country  and  its  aflairs  of  state 
at  a  moment's  notice.  There  would  be  many  to  bid  them 
stay  and  worship  the  new-born  King  at  home— many  to 
point  out  the  perils  of  the  unknown  way,  and  the  un- 
certainty of  a  safe  return.  But  nothing  could  shake  the 
faith,  no  difficulty  daunt  the  hearts  of  these  brave  God- 
fearing men.  The  King  had  come  and  they  must  go  to 
pay  Him  homage.  And  so  the  preparations  for  the 
journey  are  set  on  foot.  They  gather  rich  and  costly 
presents,  they  pack  their  tents  and  their  provisions  for 
the  way  on  the  backs  of  swift  camels,  and  accompanied 
by  their  attendants  they  set  out  across  the  desert.  It 
was  a  rough  and  perilous  journey.  They  would  have  to 
ford  swift  rivers  and  climb  many  rocky  passes,  as  well  as 
pass  through  long  and  apparently  endless  stretches  of 
desert  sand,  with  no  spreading  palm-trees  under  which  to 
rest,  or  wells  from  which  to  draw  water  for  their  camels. 
The  hot  sun  would  beat  down  upon  them  with  its  pitiless 
rays ;  they  would  be  in  danger  from  the  wild  beast  and  the 
desert  robber.  But  they  braved  all  dangers  and  endured 
every  hardship,  upheld  by  the  hope  of  seeing  the  King. 

At  last  the  forest-clad  mountains  of  '  the  Land,'  as  the 
Jews  loved  to  call  their  country,  begin  to  rise  in  the  blue 
distance,  and  by  and  by  they  reach  Judaea. 

They  went  straight  to  Jerusalem.  It  was  the  capital 
of  the  country,  and  they  would  naturally  expect  to  find 
the  King  somewhere  within  its  gates.  There  would  be 
much  to  interest  and  astonish  them  as  they  caught  their 
first  glimpses  of  its  towering  walls  and  lofty  terraces. 
Coming  from  the  flat  East  it  would  rise  before  them  Mke 
some  great  mountain  fortress ;  and  as  they  drew  nearer 


38  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

the  green  and  silver  of  the  fig  and  ohve  trees  that  clung 
about  its  sides,  and  the  gold  and  glitter  of  its  great  Temple, 
would  fill  with  delight  eyes  that  had  looked  so  long  on 
bare  rock  and  yellow  desert  sand. 

But  what  perhaps  would  strike  them  most  with 
wonder  would  be  to  find  the  city  so  peaceful  and 
undisturbed. 

The  birth  of  a  King  is  no  everyday  event.  At  such 
a  time  the  trumpets  peal  and  flags  are  flung  out ;  there 
are  gathering  crowds  in  the  streets,  and  signs  of  rejoicing 
on  every  side. 

But  in  Jerusalem  there  are  none  of  these  things,  and 
when  they  ask  for  news  of  the  King  they  had  come  to 
seek,  no  one  has  even  heard  of  Him.  Their  story  and 
eager  questionings  only  cause  perplexity  and  alarm. 

At  last  Herod,  in  his  great  white  palace  on  the  hill, 
hears  of  the  mysterious  visitors.  Herod  was  King  of  the 
Jews  at  this  time,  ruling  under  the  Romans,  who  were  the 
real  masters  of  the  country.  He  was  an  old  and  very 
wicked  king,  hated  and  feared  by  the  Jews  over  whom 
he  ruled,  on  account  of  his  many  deeds  of  cruelty ;  and 
when  he  heard  of  the  errand  on  which  the  wise  men  had 
come  he  was  filled  with  dread.  He  was  afraid  lest  this 
King,  of  whose  birth  the  wise  men  spoke,  might  grow  up 
to  be  his  rival,  and  in  the  end  seize  his  crown  and  throne. 
He  did  not  know  that  Jesus  had  come  to  wear  a  crown 
of  thorns,  and  that  the  only  throne  He  longed  to  win 
was  the  throne  of  His  people's  hearts. 

And  so  in  his  perplexity  and  alarm  Herod  summons 
the  chief  priests  and  scribes — the  leaders  of  religion — and 
enquires  of  them  where  it  had  been  foretold  by  the 
prophets  that  Christ  should  be  born.  With  one  voice 
they  reply  that  the  prophets  had  written  that  Christ 
should    be    born    at    Bethlehem,   and    they    quote    the 


THE  VISIT  OF  THE  WISE  MEN  39 

prophecy  of  Micah,  '  And  thou,  Bethlehem,  in  the  land 
of  Juda,  art  not  the  least  among  the  princes  of  Juda : 
for  out  of  thee  shall  come  a  Governor  that  shall  rule 
j\ly  people  Israel.' 

Herod  did  not  wish  the  Jews  to  suspect  that  he  was 
troubled  and  ill  at  ease,  and  so  he  sends  for  the  wise  men 
secretly,  and  with  kindly  words  and  pretended  sympathy 
bids  them  tell  him  the  story  of  the  wondrous  star ; 
questioning  them  anxiously  as  to  the  exact  time  of  its 
appearing,  in  the  hope  of  getting  a  clue  to  the  date  of 
Jesus'  birth.  He  then  sent  them  away,  bidding  them 
go  to  Bethlehem,  and  when  they  had  found  the  young 
Child,  bring  him  word  again,  when  he  too  would  go  and 
worship  Him. 

It  was  a  lie  he  told  them — this  old,  white-haired, 
wicked  king — for  all  the  while  he  was  plotting  in  his 
heart  how  best  he  might  seize  and  destroy  the  Child 
Jesus.    Only  the  wise  men  did  not  know  this  at  the  time. 

And  so  they  leave  the  royal  palace,  and,  gathering 
their  attendants  together,  presently  the  long  string  of 
camels  with  their  rich  trappings  is  seen  passing  through 
the  streets  of  Jerusalem  on  the  way  to  Bethlehem. 

No  one  goes  with  them.  There  is  no  one,  not  even  a 
single  priest  of  the  Temple,  who  seems  to  know  or  care 
about  the  King  they  had  come  so  far  to  seek.  What 
could  it  mean  ?  It  all  seems  very  strange  and  sad.  But 
still  they  go  on  bravely,  sure  that  God  will  fulfil  His 
promise  in  the  end.  And  as  they  go,  suddenly  they 
look  up,  and  lo !  there  is  the  star  they  had  seen  in  the 
East,  shining  in  the  clear  blue  sky  above  their  heads, 
going  before  them,  leading  the  way  just  as  the  pillar  of 
fire  went  before  the  Israelites  of  old  on  their  way  to 
the  Promised  Land.  O  the  joy  that  fills  their  hearts! 
They  know  now  in  spite  of  the  coldness  and  unbelief  of 


40  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OP'  JESUS 

the  Jews,  that  their  journey  could  not  be  in  vain.  How 
could  they  doubt  it  with  the  star  before  their  eyes  ? 

And  so  they  follow  the  star  as  it  moves  slowly  before 
them,  until  Bethlehem  is  reached,  when  it  descends  and 
hangs  like  a  silver  lamp  over  the  house  where  the  young 
Child  lay. 

'And  when  they  were  come  into  the  house,  they  saw 
the  young  Child  with  Mary  His  mother.'  God  had 
brought  them  into  the  presence  of  the  King. 

But  how  unlike  a  King !  No  beautiful  palace  roof 
stretched  above  His  head — only  the  rough  rafters  of  a 
humble  cottage.  No  gold  or  purple,  no  silver  cradle, 
only  common  rough  linen  bands  and  the  humble  throne 
of  a  poor  mother's  lap.  Yet  they  bowed  themselves  at 
the  Star  Child's  feet.  Although  he  seemed  so  poor,  they 
knew  that  He  was  indeed  a  King.  Although  He  was 
without  a  throne,  they  knew  He  had  come  to  set  up  a 
throne  and  a  kingdom  which  never  should  be  moved 
nor  pass  away.  And  so  they  knelt  before  Him  and 
worshipped  Him,  just  as  the  shepherds  had  done,  and, 
opening  their  treasures,  presented  unto  Him  gifts,  gold 
and  frankincense  and  myrrh.  These  were  the  best  things 
their  land  produced,  and  they  were  given,  each  of  them, 
with  a  purpose. 

'  Gold  a  monarch  to  declare. 
Frankincense  that  God  is  there, 
Myrrh  to  tell  a  heavier  tale 
Of  His  tomb  and  funeral.' 

And  then,  having  made  their  offerings,  with  glad  and 
joyous  hearts,  the  wise  men  turn  their  faces  once  more 
towards  the  East. 

They  did  not  return  to  Jerusalem.  God  warned 
them  in  a  dream  of  Herod's  wicked  purpose  to  destroy 


THE  MURDER  OF  THE  INNOCENTS      41 

the  Holy  Child,  and  so  they  made  their  way  back  by 
another  way. 

What  happened  when  they  reached  their  far-off  home 
once  more — whether  they  became  missionaries  for  .Jesus 
Christ  and  died  in  His  service — whether  they  afterwards 
learned  the  wondrous  story  of  His  Cross  and  Passion, 
His  precious  Death  and  Burial,  His  glorious  Resurrection 
and  Ascension,  we  are  not  told.  Quietly,  mysteriously, 
they  come  into  the  gospel  story;  quietly, mysteriously, they 
disappear.  But  the  memory  of  their  coming  would  never 
quite  die  out  in  the  Home  of  Nazareth  afterwards.  It 
would  be  one  of  those  things  which  Mary  would  ponder 
over  in  her  heart.  As  a  little  child  Jesus  would  often 
hear  the  story  from  her  lips,  and  perhaps  it  was  in 
memory  of  the  sign  God  sent  the  wise  men,  that  we  find 
Him  calling  Himself  long  afterwards  by  one  of  His  most 
beautiful  names,  '  I  am  the  bright  and  morning  Star.' 

And  now  let  us  go  back  to  Jerusalem.  AVhen  the 
days  passed  by,  and  there  came  no  news  of  the  wise 
men,  Herod  felt  he  had  been  tricked,  and  his  rage  and 
fury  became  very  great.  In  his  anger  and  fear  the 
thought  of  a  very  cruel  deed  slowly  shaped  itself  in  his 
mind.  He  had  no  means  of  finding  out  in  which  of  all 
the  many  Bethlehem  homes  the  little  Christ  Child  lay, 
and  so  he  determined  to  kill  every  little  boy  in  the  village 
of  two  years  old  and  under,  thinking  in  this  way  that  he 
would  be  sure  to  get  rid  of  Jesus. 

It  was  a  cunning  plan,  but  God  did  not  suffer  it 
to  succeed.  Those  who  fight  against  God  are  always 
sure  to  fail.  One  night  as  he  lay  asleep  an  angel  stood 
by  .Joseph's  bed  and  spoke  to  him  in  his  dream,  and 
bade  him  take  the  young  Child  and  Mary  His  mother 
and  flee  away  to  Egypt,  '  for  Herod  will  seek  the  young 
Child  to  destroy  Him.'     And  so  Joseph  and  Mary  were 


42  THE  CHILD  S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

able  to  leave  Bethlehem  before  Herod  had  time  to  carry- 
out  his  plan.  Hastily  they  arose,  and  Mary  wrapping 
the  little  Jesus  in  her  warm  cloak,  while  Joseph  saddled 
the  ass  and  took  his  staff  in  hand,  they  fared  out  upon 
the  hills  beneath  the  star-lit  sky,  until  by  and  by  they 
were  far  beyond  the  reach  of  Herod's  cruelty. 

Then  one  day  a  troop  of  Herod's  soldiers  with  their 
swords  by  their  sides  ride  jingling  down  the  Bethlehem 
valley.  Everything  is  quiet  and  peaceful  in  the  little 
village.  The  smith  is  at  work  in  his  forge,  his  little 
furnace  glowing  by  his  side;  the  potter  is  turning  his 
wheel,  surrounded  by  his  jars  of  red  and  black  and 
blue  ;  the  wine-seller  with  his  wine-skin  bottles  and  big 
earthen  jars  is  seated  at  his  stall ;  pleasantest  sight  of  all, 
little  happy  children  are  to  be  seen  playing  and  laughing 
in  the  streets. 

Suddenly  a  cry  is  raised  that  soldiers  are  coming,  and 
people  crowd  out  to  see  the  brave  sight  of  Herod's  men 
at  arms.  The  children  are  the  first  to  gather  around ; 
when  suddenly  swords  flash,  and  first  one  and  then 
another  little  one  is  pitilessly  cut  down. 

In  a  moment  all  is  terror  and  confusion.  Men  shout, 
the  mothers  run  to  catch  up  their  little  ones  and  try  to 
escape.  But  the  soldiers  follow  them.  They  force  their 
way  into  every  house.  Wherever  a  little  boy  of  tender 
years  is  found  he  is  cruelly  put  to  death. 

Oh,  how  many  sad  hearts,  how  many  desolate  homes 
there  would  be  that  night  in  little  Bethlehem  ;  what 
sounds  of  bitter  weeping  would  be  heard  in  chambers 
where  mothers  bent  over  the  bodies  of  their  little 
murdered  children ! 

You  will  say  that  this  is  a  sad  story,  and  so  it  is.  It 
is  always  sad  to  hear  of  the  death  of  little  children,  even 
when  death  does  not  come  in  a  terrible  form  as  it  did  in 


THE    FLIGHT   INTO   EGVPT 


THE  MURDER  OF  THE  INNOCENTS      43 

the  case  of  the  Holy  Innocents.  And  yet  we  must  try 
to  look  beyond  the  sadness,  the  weeping,  and  the  pain. 
In  a  great  poem  called  '  The  Ring  and  the  Book,'  the 
poet  makes  one  of  his  characters  speak  of  a  poor,  ill- 
treated,  dying  girl  as  a  rose  gathered  for  the  breast  of 
God.  Is  not  that  a  beautiful  thought?  So  when  the 
children  of  Bethlehem  died,  God  took  care  of  them. 
He  gathered  them  up  in  His  arms,  just  as  one  gathers  up 
the  flowers.  '  I  saw  a  beautiful  angel  walking  up  and 
down  the  earth.  He  touched  the  aged  and  they  became 
young.  He  touched  the  poor  and  they  became  rich.  He 
touched  the  sorrowful  and  their  faces  became  radiant 
with  joy. 

'  "  Who  is  this  beautiful  being  wandering  up  and  down 
the  earth  ?  "  I  said.     They  told  me  his  name  was  Death.' 

Let  me  tell  you  a  story  I  once  read,  as  I  end  this 
chapter.  It  is  the  story  of  a  boy  whose  little  sister  lay 
dying.  Some  one  told  him  that,  if  he  could  gather  one 
single  leaf  from  the  tree  of  life  that  grew  in  the  Garden  of 
God,  his  sister  would  be  healed  of  her  sickness.  And  so 
he  set  out  to  find  the  garden,  and  when  after  many  weary 
wanderings  he  had  found  it,  he  drew  near  to  the  gate  and 
begged  the  angel  sentinel  who  stood  there  with  stern  face 
and  flaming  sword  to  let  him  have  but  one  leaf  from  the 
tree  of  life  to  save  his  sister.  And  the  angel  asked  the 
boy  if  he  could  promise  that  his  sister  should  never  be 
sick  any  more  if  he  granted  his  request,  and  that  she 
should  never  be  unhappy,  nor  do  wrong,  nor  be  cold  or 
hungry,  nor  be  treated  harshly.  And  the  boy  said  he 
could  not  promise  it.  Then  said  the  angel,  *  Draw  nearer,' 
and  the  boy  drew  nearer ;  and  the  angel  opened  the  gate 
a  little  way,  bidding  the  child  look  into  the  garden  for  a 
moment,  in  order  that  he  might  catch  a  glimpse  of  the 
silver  lilies  dreaming  by  the  still  waters,  and  the  purple 


44  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

passion  flowers,  and  lovely  roses,  and  all  the  beauty  and 
the  peace  that  lay  within.  'Then  if  thou  still  wouldst 
wish  for  the  leaf,'  said  the  angel,  '  I  myself  will  make 
request  of  the  King,  and  the  leaf  shall  be  thine.' 

And  the  boy  looked  in  and  saw  all  the  wondrous 
beauty  and  blessedness  within  the  gate,  and  his  lips 
trembled  and  his  eyes  grew  dim  and  wistful,  and  he 
answered  softly  and  said  to  the  angel,  '  I  will  not  ask 
for  the  leaf.  There  is  no  place  in  the  world  so  beauti- 
ful as  this.  There  is  no  friend  so  kind  as  the  Angel 
of  Death.' 

And  so  let  us  think  of  the  Holy  Innocents  as  going 
that  day  to  be  with  God  in  His  beautiful  Garden  of 
Paradise.  They  died  for  Jesus,  and  God  took  them  to 
Himself,  in  that  fair  land  where  the  flowers  never  fade, 
and  where  shadows  of  suffering  or  of  sin  can  never  fall. 


VI 

THE    FLIGHT    INTO    EGYPT — THE    NAZARETH    LIFE 

The  way  to  Egypt  which  Joseph  and  Mary  took  lay  for 
the  first  few  miles  across  the  hills.  It  then  descended 
into  the  great  fertile  plain  known  to  the  Jews  as  '  the  Low 
Country,'  which  stretched  along  the  shores  of  the  blue 
Mediterranean,  or  '  great  sea '  as  it  was  then  called. 

Theirs  would  not  be  a  journey  over  the  trackless 
desert,  as  in  the  case  of  the  wise  men,  for  they  would 
travel  by  the  great  coast  road  which  ran  between  Egypt 
and  Palestine.  Nor  would  it  be  a  solitary  journey  like 
theirs,  for  the  road  to  Egypt  was  a  famous  trade  route,  and 
there  would  be  many  caravans  passing  along  with  camels, 
carrying  spices  and  jewels  and  rich  stuffs  from  the  cities 
of  the  East,  and  returning  laden  with  bags  of  corn  and 
alum,  and  great  bales  of  muslin  and  linen  yarn  upon  their 
backs.  Fear  of  pursuit  by  the  soldiers  of  Herod  would 
make  the  Holy  Family  travel  quickly,  and  they  would 
reach  Egypt  three  days  after  leaving  Bethlehem. 

Many  legends  have  gathered  around  this  journey  of 
Joseph  and  Mary  and  the  Infant  Jesus.  One  of  these 
is  so  beautiful  that  I  must  try  to  find  room  for  it. 
The  soldiers  of  Herod,  it  tells  us,  followed  the  travellers 
in  fierce  pursuit,  and  at  one  time  nearly  caught  them 
up.  To  escape  their  enemies,  Joseph  and  Mary  turned 
aside  and  fled  through  a  field  of  standing  wheat.     And 


46  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

as  they  went,  the  wheat  closed  up  behind  them,  so  that 
no  trace  of  their  passage  was  to  be  seen.  Presently  the 
soldiers  came  hot -foot  on  the  Holy  Family's  track. 
Halting,  they  bade  the  reapers  answer  whether  a  man 
and  woman  and  little  child  had  not  but  just  before 
passed  through  the  field.  For  answer,  the  reapers 
pointed  to  the  flawless  sea  of  golden  grain  which 
stretched  before  them.  '  Ask  the  wheat,'  they  said. 
'  Can  travellers  pass  through  a  cornfield  as  birds  breast 
the  air,  and  leave  no  trace  of  their  passage  behind 
them  ? ' 

Then  the  soldiers  rode  off,  and,  throwing  down  their 
sickles,  the  reapers  hastened  after  Joseph  and  Mary. 
And  when  they  had  overtaken  them  they  knelt  with 
bowed  heads  before  the  Holy  Child,  and  He  blessed 
them,  making  the  sign  of  the  cross  over  them  with 
uplifted  hand. 

Arrived  in  Egypt,  Joseph  no  doubt  at  once  made  his 
way  to  one  of  the  towns,  to  seek  for  work  at  his  trade  in 
order  to  earn  money  to  support  Mary  and  the  Child  Jesus, 
until  God  should  see  fit  to  call  them  home  again.  Egypt 
must  have  seemed  a  strange  place  to  Joseph  and  INlary. 
It  was  a  country  very  unlike  Judasa  with  its  rugged  hills 
and  wooded  valleys.  It  was  a  fair  level  land,  running 
like  a  broad  green  ribbon  through  the  desert,  and  divided 
by  the  waters  of  the  river  Nile,  '  Mother  of  Harvests,' 
whose  overflowing  waters  gave  the  land  its  colouring  of 
tender  green. 

And  yet,  though  a  flat  country,  there  was  much  that 
was  interesting  and  beautiful  in  Egypt.  It  was  a  land 
of  clear  distances,  of  lovely  rose-coloured  sunsets  and  fair 
unclouded  skies.  It  was  a  land,  too,  of  great  buildings. 
On  every  side  all  kinds  of  rare  and  curious  monuments 
were  to  be  seen.     Splendid  palaces  lifted  themselves  in 


THE  NAZARETH  LIFE  47 

air,  their  walls  and  columns  gay  with  painted  figures ; 
great  temples  ranged  themselves  along  the  river-banks, 
full  of  strange  gods  with  heads  of  animals  and  birds. 

Most  wonderful  sight  of  all,  towering  above  palace 
and  temple  alike,  and  looking  out  over  the  whirling  desert 
sand,  rose  the  giant  pyramids,  tombs  of  the  ancient 
Egyptian  Kings,  the  wonder  of  the  world. 

But  beautiful  and  full  of  interest  though  it  might  be, 
Egypt  could  only  be  a  land  of  exile  for  Joseph  and  Mary, 
and  the  life  there  would  be  strange,  and  their  hearts 
would  often  turn  with  longing  towards  their  village  home 
in  far-off  Judaea. 

At  last  God  calls  them  back,  and  the  message  comes  as 
before  in  a  dream.  Again  it  is  night,  and  Joseph  is  asleep, 
and  as  he  sleeps  an  angel  touches  him,  and  he  hears  the 
welcome  words :  '  Arise,  and  take  the  young  Child  and 
Mary  His  mother,  and  go  into  the  land  of  Israel :  for  they 
are  dead  which  sought  the  young  Child's  life.' 

And  so  once  more  Joseph  and  Mary  set  forth  upon 
their  homeward  journey,  and  soon  Egypt,  with  its  palm- 
trees  and  palaces  and  mighty  pyramids,  is  left  behind.  It 
is  always  good  to  return  home  again  after  exile  in  a 
foreign  land,  and  the  hearts  of  Mary  and  Joseph  must 
have  rejoiced  as  they  retraced  the  way  they  had  trodden 
in  such  sadness  and  alarm  nearly  three  years  before.  The 
borders  of  Judeea  would  soon  be  reached,  and  then  they 
would  climb  the  rocky  hills  that  led  to  Hebron,  on  their 
way  back  to  Bethlehem.  But  before  they  had  gone  far 
the  news  reaches  them  that  although  Herod,  the  wicked 
king,  their  enemy,  was  dead,  his  son  Archelaus  reigned  in 
his  stead,  and  the  news  makes  them  afraid  lest  danger 
still  threatened  the  Holy  Child.  In  their  doubt  and 
perplexity  their  thoughts  go  back  to  the  old  home  at 
Nazareth   among   the   blue   Galilean    hills,  and   turning 


48  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

aside,  they  again  descend  into  the  plain,  and  make  their 
way  towards  the  north  country  by  the  road  running  along 
the  coast. 

Galilee,  the  country  towards  which  they  were  travel- 
ling, was  quite  the  most  beautiful  part  of  the  Holy  Land, 
although  it  was  despised  by  the  Jews  of  the  south, 
who  called  it '  Galilee  of  the  Gentiles,'  because  it  was  the 
home  of  so  many  foreign  peoples.  The  Canaanites  and 
many  other  warlike  tribes  had  never  been  quite  driven 
out  from  its  mountains,  and  there  were  many  merchants 
from  Greece  and  Assyria,  and  from  the  neighbouring  cities 
of  Phoenicia,  who  had  settled  within  its  borders  for  the 
purposes  of  trade.  But  the  country  itself  was  the  garden 
of  Palestine,  full  of  fair  mountains  and  grassy  plains. 
Great  forests  of  oak  and  olive  gave  colour  to  its  hills ; 
the  fig-tree  and  the  almond  blossomed  in  its  orchards,  and 
its  valleys  and  plains  rippled  and  waved  with  the  swaying 
corn.  The  village  of  Nazareth,  the  home  of  Joseph  and 
Mary,  lay  like  a  white  flower  in  the  midst  of  this  beauti- 
ful garden  country.  It  was  a  little  village  at  the  end  of 
a  narrow  valley,  shut  in  by  the  green  hills  which  folded 
about  it  '  like  the  petals  of  a  rose.'  Here  Joseph  and 
Mary  had  their  home,  and  it  was  here  that  Jesus  lived 
for  nearly  thirty  years,  till  God  called  Him  forth  to  tread 
the  bitter  road  which  led  Him  to  the  Cross.  How  much 
we  should  like  to  have  a  history  of  those  years — 

'  The  sinless  years 
That  breathed  beneath  the  Syrian  blue.' 

But  the  Bible  drops  a  curtain  of  silence  over  them  all, 
and  only  lifts  it  once  to  show  us  the  Boy  Jesus  going  up 
to  the  Temple  when  He  was  twelve  years  old.  It  is 
Jesus'  work  in  blessing  and  saving  the  world  that  God 
would  have  us  think  most  about. 


THE  NAZARETH   LIFE  49 

And  yet  it  will  do  us  no  harm  to  picture  to  ourselves 
— if  we  do  it  reverently — the  kind  of  life  Jesus  would  live 
in  the  Nazareth  home,  before  He  began  that  short,  sad 
journey  of  His  which  led  Him  to  the  Cross. 

His  would  be  the  free  and  happy  life  of  the  country 
child,  lived  in  the  open  air  and  among  the  trees  and 
flowers.  Nazareth  was  full  of  flowers,  and  there  seems 
therefore  a  certain  fitness  in  its  becoming  the  home  of 
One  whom  Solomon  calls  '  the  Rose  of  Sharon  and  the 
Lily  of  the  valleys.'  In  spring-time  the  fields  and  glades 
were  a  blaze  of  colour.  The  red  anemone,  the  cactus 
with  its  silken  blooms,  the  scarlet  tulip,  rock  roses  white 
and  yellow,  the  pink  convolvulus,  and  purple  orchis — 
these  and  many  other  beautiful  flowers  grew  every- 
where ;  and  Jesus,  we  may  be  sure,  would  love  to  w^inder 
in  the  fields  where  they  grew,  and  gather  them  in  His 
arms,  and  drink  in  their  loveliness  and  fragrance.  At 
times  He  would  wander  away  among  the  woods  and  listen 
to  the  song  of  the  birds,  and  watch  them  build  their  nests 
among  the  branches.  Then  summer  would  come,  and 
He  would  mark  how  the  corn  grew  white  upon  the  hills, 
and  follow  with  His  eyes  the  great  velvet  butterflies  that 
flitted  like  living  jewels  among  the  flowers. 

Later  still  would  come  the  time  of  the  gathering  of 
grapes,  and  then  He  would  see  the  purple  clusters  gathered 
and  carried  to  the  wine-fats,  and  the  olive  berries  stripped 
from  the  trees  and  borne  away  in  great  baskets  to  be 
pressed  into  oil. 

Sometimes  again,  He  would  climb  the  hills  and  look  out 
with  wistful  eyes  upon  the  great  outside  world.  There, 
away  to  the  north,  the  peak  of  giant  Hermon  could  be 
plainly  seen,  powdered  with  snow,  and  sparkling  like 
silver  in  the  sun.  To  the  east.  His  eyes  would  rest  upon 
green  Mount  Tabor;  to  the  south,  upon  the  hill  country 

D 


50  THE  CHILD  S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

of  JMoab  so  dim  and  blue.  Away  again  to  the  west,  the 
long  white  line  of  waves  breaking  upon  the  distant  shore 
would  be  faintly  seen ;  while,  close  at  hand,  stretched  the 
great  plain  of  Esdraelon,  '  in  bands  of  grey  and  yellow  like 
a  Persian  carpet  on  which  the  clouds  make  patches  of  deep 
violet.'  These,  and  many  other  such  sights  the  Child 
Jesus  would  see,  as  with  reverent  hand  He  turned  the 
pages  of  '  God's  Great  Green  Book '  which  lay  open 
before  Him ;  and  the  pictures  He  saw  would  sink  into 
His  heart,  and  colour  His  speech,  and  would  all  help  to 
mould  and  influence  His  character.  For  just  as  the 
water  takes  its  colour  from  the  sky  and  reflects  the 
branches  of  the  trees  that  bend  above  it,  so  to  a  great 
extent  we  take  our  character  from  our  surroundings. 
And  that  is  why  a  good  man  tells  us  never  if  possible 
to  lose  any  opportunity  of  seeing  anything  beautiful. 
*  Beauty,'  he  says,  *is  God's  handwriting — a  wayside 
Sacrament ;  welcome  it  in  every  fair  face,  every  fair 
sky,  every  fair  flower,  and  thank  Him  for  it,  who  is  the 
Fountain  of  all  loveliness,  and  drink  it  in,  simply  and 
earnestly,  with  all  your  eyes ;  it  is  a  charmed  draught, 
a  cup  of  blessing.' 

And  then  there  would  be  His  home  life.  The 
Nazareth  home — should  we  not  like  to  have  seen  it  ? 
We  can  fancy  it  to  ourselves — ^just  a  little  white  house 
nestling  against  the  slope  of  the  hill,  surrounded  by  green 
fig-trees,  and  with  clambering  vines  upon  the  walls. 
There  Mary  would  sit  and  spin,  and  weave  the  coarse 
white  linen  dress  that  Jesus  wore  during  the  summer 
days,  or  make  Him  His  little  sheepskin  coat  to  keep  Him 
warm  when  winter  came.  There,  too,  Joseph,  when  the 
rain  swept  down  the  valley,  would  bring  his  carpenter's 
bench  and  tools,  and  set  to  work  to  make  chairs  and 
tables. 


THK   WORKSHOP   OK   NAilARKTH 


THE  NAZARETH  LIFE  51 

There  would  not  be  much  in  the  way  of  furniture  In 
the  little  dimly-lighted  room  in  which  they  lived — ^just  a 
great  painted  chest,  a  stool  or  two,  some  sleeping-rugs, 
and  a  few  great  earthen  jars.  Standing  by  the  door 
would  be  the  drinking  pitcher  full  of  bright  water,  and 
fastened  to  the  door-post  the  little  metal  box,  containing 
the  ])archment  strips  with  verses  from  God's  Word  written 
upon  them,  which  every  one  on  coming  in  and  going  out 
would  reverently  touch.  On  the  outside  of  the  house — 
not  inside  as  with  us — would  run  the  staircase,  leading 
up  to  the  flat  roof;  and  there  Joseph  and  Mary  and  the 
little  Jesus  would  sit  in  the  cool  of  the  evening  to  catch 
the  breeze  that  blew  across  the  hills,  and  there  they  would 
often  kneel  in  prayer  to  their  Heavenly  Father  and  His. 

Jesus  would  soon  learn  to  be  of  use  to  His  mother  and 
Joseph.  When  He  grew  old  enough  He  w'ould  help 
JNIary  by  carrying  water  from  the  village  well,  and  aid 
her  in  a  hundred  other  thoughtful  ways.  Joseph,  no 
doubt,  Avould  teach  Him  how  to  handle  the  saw  and 
chisel,  and  He  w^ould  help  him  to  make  the  ox-goads  for 
the  farmers,  and  handles  for  their  ploughs;  for  every 
Jewish  boy  was  taught  to  do  some  useful  work,  and  there 
was  a  common  saying  among  the  Jews  that  *  he  who  did 
not  teach  his  son  a  trade  taught  him  to  become  a  robber.' 

Then  there  would  be  the  holy  lessons  learned  at  JNIary  s 
knee.  Does  it  not  seem  strange  to  think  of  God's  Son 
learning  such  lessons  there?  Yet  God,  His  Heavenly 
Father,  willed  Him  to  grow  up  step  by  step  and  little 
by  little  in  knowledge  of  Heavenly  things,  just  like 
any  other  child.  So  JVIary  would  join  His  little  hands 
together  in  prayer,  and  morning  and  evening  would  hear 
Him  say  His  'reminder'  verses,  as  they  were  called — 
texts  from  the  Holy  Scriptures  which  every  little  Jewish 
boy  must  learn  as  soon  as  he  w^as  five  years  old. 


55  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Later  on  He  would  go  to  school  at  the  synagogue, 
and  learn  to  read  and  write,  and  recite  passages  from 
the  Scriptures. 

In  the  winter-time  there  would  be  His  seat  by  the  fire 
at  Mary's  side,  and  then  Joseph  would  tell  Him  wonder- 
ful stories  from  Jewish  history ;  for  it  was  the  duty  of 
every  Jewish  father  to  teach  his  children  the  history  of 
their  land  and  nation. 

Jesus  would  hear  from  him  how  God  came  to  choose 
the  Jews  from  among  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  to  be 
His  own  peculiar  people,  and  how  He  loved  them  and  be- 
friended them,  and  bare  them  on  eag-les'  wino-s,  and  brought 
them  unto  Himself  He  would  speak  of  the  passage  of 
the  Red  Sea,  and  tell  of  the  fall  of  the  mighty  Jericho ; 
how  Dagon,  the  fish-god  of  the  Philistines,  bowed  himself 
before  the  Ark  of  God ;  and  how,  when  the  hosts  of  the 
King  of  Assyria  came  up  against  Jerusalem,  the  Spirit  of 
the  Lord  lifted  up  a  banner  against  them,  and  scattered 
them,  as  the  wind  scatters  the  withered  leaves  of  autumn. 
There  would  be  stories  too  about  the  splendid  heroes  and 
saints  of  old  time  whom  God  raised  up  to  do  His  work. 
Abraham,  to  whom  the  Promise  first  came  ;  Moses,  the 
great  lawgiver,  whose  grave  on  lonely  Nebo  the  angels 
digged ;  Daniel,  who  faced  death  in  the  den  of  lions  rather 
than  give  up  his  prayers.  Joseph,  moving  through  dark 
ways  with  the  white  flower  of  innocence  ever  at  his  breast, 
would  not  be  forgotten  ;  nor  David,  the  shepherd  lad  and 
sweet  singer  of  Israel,  who  lived  to  w^ear  the  royal  purple 
and  write  the  grandest  songs  the  world  has  ever  heard. 

Then  on  Sabbath  days  (and  at  other  times  as  well) 
there  would  be  the  visit  to  the  Synagogue,  or  Parish 
Church  as  we  might  almost  call  it,  and  Jesus  would  stand 
at  Joseph's  side  and  join  with  His  childish  voice  in  the 
prayers,  and  see   the  silken  curtains  drawn  back  from 


I 


THE  NAZARETH  LIFE  53 

before  the  ark  in  which  the  sacred  Scriptures  were  kept, 
and  watch  the  great  parchment  rolls  brought  out.  At 
every  service  there  was  a  reading  from  the  LaAv  of  JNIoses 
and  the  prophets,  and  Jesus  would  listen  with  great  atten- 
tion to  the  holy  words  as  they  fell  from  the  reader's 
lips,  and  ponder  over  them  and  treasure  them  in  His 
heart. 

In  some  such  fashion  as  this  the  days  of  Nazareth 
would  pass  by,  and  all  the  while  Jesus  was  increasing  in 
wisdom  and  stature,  and  in  favour  with  God  and  man. 
He  was  preparing  Himself  for  the  great  work  to  which 
God,  His  Heavenly  Father,  had  called  Him  ;  He  was 
getting  ready  for  the  Cross  and  strengthening  Himself  to 
bear  its  heavy  weight. 

And  now  let  us  gather  up  one  or  two  thoughts  about 
this  Nazareth  life  of  which  we  have  been  thinking. 

First,  we  have  seen  it  was  the  life  of  a  little  human 
child. 

We  think  of  Jesus  as  the  Son  of  God,  but  it  is  good 
to  think  of  Him  as  the  Son  of  INIary  too.  He  had  a 
human  body  like  ours,  He  had  a  human  mind.  He  felt 
hunger  and  pain  and  weariness  just  as  all  children  at  times 
must  do.  '  He  tabernacled  in  a  tent  like  our  own,'  says 
an  old  writer,  '  and  of  the  same  pattern  ' ;  and^  another 
writer  speaks  of  Him  as  growing  just  as  other  children 
grow,  only  in  a  childhood  of  stainless  and  sinless  beauty 
'  as  the  flowers  of  roses  in  the  spring  of  the  year  and  as 
lilies  by  the  waters.'  And  so,  since  Jesus  has  been  a  child, 
we  know  that  He  can  feel  for  little  children,  and  enter 
into  all  their  sorrows  and  their  joys. 

But  not  only  so,  it  was  the  life  of  a  poor  child,  and  so 
a  very  simple  one.  If  you  look  at  some  of  the  gi'cat 
pictures  which  painters  of  old  have  painted  of  Mary  and 
the  Infant  Jesus,  you  will  see  how  often  they  paint  them 


54  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

on  a  splendid  throne,  with  robes  of  gold  and  jewelled 
crowns.  But  Mary  was  poor,  and  could  not  have  afforded 
rich  jewels  for  herself,  or  a  robe  of  gold  for  her  little  Child, 
even  had  she  desired  them.  Jesus  wore  the  common 
dress  of  the  little  peasant  child.  He  ate  the  common  black 
barley  bread  of  the  country  people.  He  had  no  expensive 
pleasures,  only  the  very  simplest  ones.  And  yet  He  was 
quite  happy.  And  so  He  teaches  us  that  it  is  not  the 
things  we  have  that  bring  us  happiness,  but  rather  the 
character  we  form  for  ourselves  and  the  kind  of  life  we 
lead. 

Then,  too,  it  was  a  life  of  service.  From  the  time  He 
was  a  little  child  He  learned  to  work  with  His  hands,  and 
to  do  His  best  to  help  others.  He  helped  ^lary  with  her 
tasks.  He  worked  with  Joseph  in  his  shop ;  and  so  by 
working  He  ennobled  common  life  and  made  all  labour 
honourable.  By  and  by  God  called  Him  to  higher  and 
more  important  service ;  but  whatever  His  Father  gave 
him  to  do  He  did  it  thoroughly  and  well  and  with  all  His 
might.  He  was  faithful  not  only  in  the  great  things  of 
life  but  in  the  very  little  ones  as  well — 

'  Never  in  a  costly  palace  did  I  rest  on  golden  bed. 
Never  in  a  hermit's  cavern  have  I  eaten  idle  bread. 

'  Born  within  a  lowly  stable  where  the  cattle  round  Me  stood. 
Trained  a  carpenter  in  Nazareth,  I  have  toiled  and  found  it  good. 

*  They  who  tread  the  path  of  labour  follow  where  My  feet  have  ti'od. 
They  who  work  without  complaining  do  the  holy  will  of  God 

Once  more,  it  was  a  life  of  obedience.  Children  some- 
times think  it  hard  to  have  to  obey,  and  yet  here  we  have 
the  Son  of  God  Himself  learning  the  lesson  of  obedience 
—that  lesson  so  difficult  and  yet  so  necessary  to  learn. 
Not  only  was  He  obedient  to  the  will  of  His  Heavenly 
Father,  He  obeyed  His  earthly  parents  in  all  things.  He 


THE  NAZARETH  LIFE  55 

bent  His  will  to  theirs.  He  carried  out  their  every  wish 
without  a  murmur,  and  always  in  a  spirit  of  cheerftd  and 
loving  readiness. 

Above  all  it  was  a  life  of  perfect  sinlessness.  Sin ! 
— that  was  the  only  thing  in  which  He  differed  from  you 
and  me.     He  never  did  anything  wrong.     He  was — 

'  A  Son  who  never  did  amiss. 
Who  never  shamed  his  mother's  kiss ; ' 

a  child  whose  thoughts  were  always  pure,  and  whose  words 
were  ever  kind  and  gentle.  If  you  stand  at  evening- 
time  by  the  shore  of  some  mountain  lake  when  the  stars 
are  shining,  and  look  down  into  the  water,  you  will  see 
the  violet  mantle  of  the  sky  with  all  its  gold  embroidery 
reflected  as  clearly  as  in  some  fairy  glass.  So  we  look 
at  Jesus  and  we  see  all  the  light  and  beauty  of  Heaven 
shining  in  His  life.  It  was  radiant  and  stainless  from 
end  to  end.  We  look  into  it  as  we  look  into  the  waters 
of  a  lake,  and  it  gives  us  back  the  stars. 

Dear  child,  there  is  a  hymn  which  tells  us  that  Jesus 
is  our  childhood's  pattern,  and  it  is  true.  God  sent  the 
little  Child  of  Nazareth  to  show  us  into  what  He  would 
have  us  grow.  It  is  the  work  of  all  our  lives  to  follow  in 
His  steps. 

A  good  man  tells  us  that  he  once  saw  a  picture  of 
Joseph's  workshop,  in  which  the  Holy  Child  was  painted 
holding  a  line  to  guide  the  carpenter  as  he  sawed  the 
wood,  whilst  the  shavings  fell  at  His  feet  in  the  form  of  a 
cross. 

And  he  tells  us  how  he  could  not  help  thinking  what 
a  true  picture  it  was  of  the  work  which  Jesus  came  to  do, 
and  how  He  holds  tlie  line  of  duty  for  all  little  children, 
and  guides  them  in  safety  along  the  straight  and  narrow 
way. 


56  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

It  is  the  same  thought  which  one  of  the  old  prophets 
had — '  A  Httle  Child  shall  lead  them.' 

'  And  our  eyes  at  last  shall  see  Him 
Through  His  own  redeeming  love. 

For  that  Child  so  dear  and  gentle 
Is  our  Lord  in  Heaven  above ; 

And  He  leads  His  children  on 
To  the  place  where  He  is  gone.' 


VTI 

THE    VISIT    TO    THE    TEMPLE 

I  SAID,  when  speaking  of  the  Home  at  Nazareth,  that 
God's  hand  has  drawn  a  curtain  over  the  childhood  of 
Jesus.  Only  once  is  that  curtain  raised,  when  the 
picture  we  are  shown  is  that  of  a  little  Lad  going  up 
for  the  first  time  to  Jerusalem  to  keep  the  Feast  of  the 
Passover. 

Jesus  would  often  have  heard  from  the  lips  of  Mary 
the  story  of  the  three  great  festivals  which  every  true- 
hearted  Jew  was  bound  to  observe  at  the  Temple  at 
Jerusalem ;  the  Feast  of  the  Passover,  the  Feast  of 
Pentecost  or  Ingathering,  and  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles. 
He  must  often  have  seen  the  caravans  start  from 
Nazareth  to  keep  the  feasts,  with  Joseph  among  the 
other  travellers,  and  He  would  look  forward  longingly 
to  the  time  when  He  should  be  old  enough  to  join 
the  happy  procession  Himself,  and  behold  with  His  own 
eyes  the  dear  city  of  whose  glory  and  splendour  He  had 
heard  so  much — '  To  behold  the  fair  beauty  of  the  Lord 
and  to  visit  His  Temple.' 

And  now  that  time  had  come.  He  was  tweh^e  years 
old,  and  at  twelve  years  old  every  little  boy  was  con- 
sidered by  the  Jews  to  be  of  age.  He  was  called  '  a  Son 
of  the  Law ' ;  he  was  privileged  to  wear  upon  his  forehead 
and  left  arm  the  '  phylacteries,'  as  they  were  called — little 
leather    boxes    containing    parchment   slips    with   verses 


58  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

from  the  Law  of  Moses  written  upon  them ;  best  of  all, 
he  was  allowed  to  go  up  to  Jerusalem  with  the  rest,  and 
to  keep  the  feasts  like  any  grown-up  man. 

Joseph  and  Mary,  St.  Luke  tells  us,  went  up  to 
Jerusalem  every  year  to  keep  the  Passover,  and  now  that 
the  time  had  come  round  again  for  their  yearly  visit, 
they  arranged  to  take  the  Child  Jesus  with  them. 

Tlie  little  Nazareth  village  would  be  astir  some  days 
before  the  caravan  started,  for  it  was  a  long  journey  that 
faced  the  travellers,  and  there  would  be  many  prepara- 
tions to  be  made.  Provisions  would  have  to  be  stored 
for  the  way,  tents  and  bedding  packed,  horses  and  mules 
gathered  together.  Then,  when  everything  was  ready, 
at  a  given  signal  the  start  would  be  made,  and  the  long 
procession  would  slowly  move  down  the  valley  to  the 
sound  of  singing  and  flute-playing,  and  stream  away 
across  the  blue  hills  towards  the  south. 

It  was  the  most  beautiful  time  of  the  whole  year. 
Everywhere  the  cornfields  spread,  turning  the  great 
plain  of  Esdraelon,  through  which  the  road  led  at  first, 
into  a  very  field  of  the  cloth  of  gold.  Everywhere  the 
flowers  were  springing,  and  the  soft  air  was  full  of  the 
song  of  birds.  Roses  twined  among  the  hedgerows  ;  the 
poppies  stood  waist  high  among  the  corn ;  by  the  road- 
side the  tulip  blew  its  blood-red  bubble,  and  banks  were 
white  with  cyclamen  and  the  '  Star  of  Bethlehem.' 
Through  this  lovely,  flower-enamelled  country  the  long 
caravan  moved  slowly  onwards,  with  Jesus  in  the  midst, 
now  riding  by  Mary's  side,  now  walking  by  the  side  of 
Joseph.  The  road  along  which  they  passed  would  be 
familiar  enough  to  most  of  the  pilgrims,  but  to  Jesus  it 
would  be  all  new  and  strange  and  very  wonderful.  He  had 
perhaps  never  strayed  beyond  the  Nazareth  valley  before ; 
His  furthest  hilltop  view  had  been  bounded  by  the  hills 


THE  VISIT  TO  THE  TEMPLE  59 

of  Samaria,  and  these  had  been  but  dimly  seen.     Now  it 
was  like  going  out  into  the  wide  world. 

As  the  procession  advanced  it  would  be  joined  by 
other  caravans  on  their  way  to  Jerusalem,  and,  as  the 
numbers  swelled,  so  louder  and  more  joyously  would 
swell  the  'Songs  of  Ascent'  as  they  were  called — songs 
which  David  wrote  of  old,  and  which  the  pilgrims 
loved  to  chant  as  they  went  up  to  the  House  of  the 
Lord. 
'  I  will  lift  up  mine  eyes  unto  the  hills  from  whence  cometh  ray  help.' 

And  again — 

'  I  was  glad  when  they  said  unto  mej  We  will  go  into  the  House  of 
the  Lord. 
Our  feet  shall  stand  in  tliy  gates,  O  Jerusalem. 
Jerusalem  is  built  as  a  city  that  is  at  unity  in  itself. 
For  thither  the  tribes  go  up,  even  the  tribes  of  the  Lord, 
To  testify  unto  Israel^  to  give  thanks  unto  the  Name  of  the  Lord.' 

So,  with  a  voice  of  singing,  first  fair  Galilee  and  then 
Samaria  by  degrees  would  be  left  behind,  and  the  far 
Jud^ean  hills  would  at  last  be  gained.  Presently  all  eyes 
would  be  strained  to  catch  the  first  glimpse  of  the  Holy 
City,  and  when  at  last  it  looms  in  the  distance — 'the 
stately  city  with  its  dreaming  spires  '■ — every  heart  would 
beat  high  with  joy  and  longing.  To  the  Jew  there  w^as 
no  city  in  all  the  world  to  be  compared  to  Jerusalem,  the 
city  '  beautiful  for  situation,  the  joy  of  the  whole  earth.' 
To  tread  its  streets,  to  worship  in  its  holy  Temple,  was  to 
him  tlie  highest  joy  of  life.  Its  very  walls  and  soil  were 
holy.  Wherever  he  went  he  kept  its  memory  green 
within  his  heart,  ^vhenever  he  prayed  it  ^vas  always  as 
Daniel  prayed,  '  with  his  windows  oj)en,  looking  towards 
Jerusalem.' 

And  so  the  pilgrims  would  rejoice  as  the  towers  and 


60  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

spires  of  the  city  began  to  show  faintly  against  the  back- 
ground of  the  sky,  and  Jesus  too  must  have  rejoiced  with 
the  rest.  To  see  Jerusalem  for  the  first  time  would  be  a 
great  event  in  His  life.  As  He  gazed  on  the  distant 
prospect,  His  tlioughts  would  travel  back  to  dim  and  far- 
off  times,  and  many  of  the  old  stories  which  Joseph  used 
to  tell  Him  about  the  Holy  City  would  rise  up  in  His 
mind.  That  hill  to  the  right  must  surely  be  Mount 
Moriah,  up  whose  side  Abraham  led  his  dear  son  Isaac, 
with  the  wood  for  the  sacrifice  bound  upon  his  back; 
that  other,  Mount  Zion,  the  strong  hill  David  had 
wrested  from  the  Jebusites,  and  to  which  he  had  brought 
the  Ark  of  God  with  singing  and  dancing.  There, 
perhaps  on  the  very  spot  where  now  the  great  dome 
ftiintly  glowed,  once  had  stood  the  Temple  of  Solomon, 
splendid  in  ivory  and  marble  and  beaten  gold — the 
wonder  of  the  world ;  there  the  second  Temple  which 
took  its  place  after  the  Jews  had  returned  from  captivity, 
a  Temple  splendid  indeed,  but  not  so  splendid  as  the  first, 
at  whose  opening  the  old  men  wept,  remembering  the 
glories  of  the  former  House. 

And  all  the  while  the  pilgrim  band  would  be  drawing 
nearer,  and  the  view  of  the  city  would  be  growing  more 
distinct,  till  by  and  by  the  marble  walls  and  golden  roofs 
of  the  Temple  would  be  seen  quite  clearly ;  with  the 
great  Castle  of  Antonia  at  its  side,  where  the  Roman 
soldiers  kept  guard,  and  the  shining  towers  of  Herod's 
palace  girdling  the  rocky  heights  below.  And  now  the 
road  would  begin  to  dip  downwards  towards  the  city 
walls,  and  the  caravan  would  enter  Jerusalem  by  the 
great  Damascus  gate.  There  a  wonderful  sight  awaited 
them.  The  city  would  present  the  appearance  of  a  great 
fair,  for  not  only  would  there  be  visitors  from  every  town 
and  village  in  the  country,  but  from  nearly  every  part  of 


THE  VISIT  TO  THE  TEMPLE  CA 

the  world  as  well — from  Phoenicia,  from  Syria,  from 
Egypt,  even  from  far-ofl'  Babylon.  Gaily  dressed,  excited 
crowds  thronged  the  streets.  Everywhere  bustle  and 
confusion  reigned,  and  the  air  was  full  of  the  sound  of 
many  voices.  At  the  street  corners  traders  were  shouting 
tlicir  wares.  In  the  market-place  long  strings  of  camels 
were  being  unladen,  and  the  shepherds  were  gathering 
their  lambs  together  to  be  taken  to  the  Temple.  Here 
would  be  seen  a  Roman  soldier  in  his  shining  armour, 
elbowing  a  path  for  himself  through  the  crowd  that 
scowled  at  him  as  he  went  by,  there  a  great  doctor  of  the 
law  in  his  flowing  robes,  before  whom  the  people  would 
reverently  give  way.  Dresses  of  all  colours,  people  of 
every  class  and  description  would  be  there ;  while  dotted 
about  on  all  sides  would  be  seen  countless  numbers  of 
little  wicker  booths,  twined  about  with  green  branches,  in 
which  the  pilgrims  slept  who  could  not  find  lodgings  for 
themselves,  and  which  were  so  numerous  as  to  turn  the 
city  into  a  very  garden. 

The  Holy  Family,  no  doubt,  would  first  of  all  seek  to 
find  shelter  in  some  humble  lodging-place.  If  this  were 
out  of  the  question,  Joseph  would  set  to  work  to  make  a 
booth  for  himself  and  INIary  and  the  Child  Jesus — which, 
as  a  carpenter,  he  would  find  no  difficulty  in  doing, — and 
then  they  would  rest  for  a  while  after  their  long  journey. 
Next  morning,  very  early,  they  would  go  to  the  Temple, 
and  Jesus  would  gaze  for  the  first  time  with  eyes  of 
wonder  on  its  loveliness  and  beauty.  Let  me  try  to  give 
you  some  idea  of  what  this  wonderful  building  was  like. 

It  stood  on  one  of  the  four  hills  upon  which  Jerusalem 
was  built,  the  IMount  JNIoriah,  as  it  was  called,  crowning 
the  very  spot,  it  was  supposed,  where  the  Angel  of  Death 
sheathed  his  sword  after  wasting  the  city  with  pestilence 
in  the  reign  of  David.      The  top  of  the  hill  had  been 


62  THE  CHILD  S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

enlarged  by  great  piles  of  masonry  to  give  room  for  the 
enormous  block  of  buildings  which  rested  upon  it,  and 
which  rose,  terrace  after  terrace,  until  it  ended  in  a  great 
house  of  white  marble  covered  with  plates  of  gold, 
'  dazzling  as  a  flame  and  sometimes  sparkling  like  snow.' 
Around  the  four  sides  of  this  great  mass  of  buildings  ran 
great  cloisters  of  white  marble  with  splendid  cedar  roofs 
and  pavements  of  many-coloured  stone,  the  largest  of 
which  lay  on  the  south,  and  was  greater  and  more 
magnificent,  we  are  told,  than  the  finest  of  our  cathedrals. 
To  enter  the  Temple  you  had  to  pass  through  a  great 
gate  crowned  with  towers  which  led  you  into  a  large 
open  court,  known  as  the  Court  of  the  Gentiles.  This 
was  the  first  and  the  largest  of  all  the  Temple  Courts,  and 
was  open  to  whoever  might  like  to  enter  it.  INIen  of  all 
nations  trod  its  pavements  of  variegated  marble ;  while 
ranged  along  its  walls  were  stalls  where  oxen  and  sheep 
were  kept,  ready  to  be  sold  for  sacrifice,  and  little  tables  at 
which  the  money-changers  sat  and  clinked  their  coins. 

Inside  this  court,  and  separated  from  it  by  a  low  wall, 
which  it  was  death  for  any  one  who  was  not  a  Jew  to  cross, 
came  the  Court  of  the  Women.  It  was  reached  by  a  flight 
of  steps  and  was  a  smaller  court  than  the  last.  Here  were 
the  thirteen  '  trumpets,'  or  money-chests,  so  called  from 
their  trumpet-like  shape,  into  which  the  offerings  in 
support  of  the  Temple  services  were  dropped.  Here  too, 
among  the  other  doors  which  led  out  of  the  court,  was 
the  famous  '  Beautiful  Gate  '  of  the  Temple,  made  of  fine 
Corinthian  brass  decorated  with  lilies  and  enriched  with 
silver  and  gold.  Another  flight  of  steps,  and  another 
barrier,  and  the  Court  of  Israel  was  reached,  into  which 
only  Jewish  men  might  enter.  Inside  this  again  was  the 
Court  of  the  Priests,  with  its  altar  of  burnt  offering  and 
great  polished  brazen  laver,  or  washing-bowL 


I 


THE  VISIT  TO  THE  TEMPLE  G3 

I^ast  of  all,  beyond  tlie  Altar,  tlie  jewel  of  wliich  all 
the  rest  were  but  the  outer  coverings,  towered  on  high  the 
beautiful  white  Sanctuary,  or  Holy  House,  itself,  its  roof 
studded  with  spikes  of  gold,  with  golden  folding  doors,  and 
a  great  golden  vine  sculptured  upon  its  front,  trailing 
grape  clusters  six  feet  long.  A  lovely  Babylonian  curtain 
of  blue  and  red  and  white  and  purple,  beautifully  em- 
broidered in  gold,  divided  it  into  two  parts.  The  first 
part  was  called  the  Holy  Place,  and  contained  the  table 
of  shewbread,  the  golden  seven-branched  candlestick,  and 
the  golden  altar  of  incense.  The  second  part  was  known 
as  the  Holy  of  Holies,  and  contained — nothing.  It  was 
quite  empty  and  quite  dark.  And  yet  this  was  the  most 
sacred  spot  of  all.  It  was  God's  Presence  Chamber,  set 
apart  for  Him  alone.  No  one  ever  went  there  except  the 
High  Priest,  and  he  only  once  a  year,  on  the  great  Day  of 
Atonement,  to  sprinkle  the  blood  of  the  sacrifice,  and  to 
make  intercession  for  the  sins  of  the  people.  Such  was 
the  Temple  which  Jesus  now  saw  for  the  first  time. 
There  were  many  other  famous  and  beautiful  buildings  in 
Jerusalem — there  was  the  great  white  marble  palace  of 
Herod,  there  were  the  stately  castles  he  had  built,  there 
were  the  beautiful  parks  and  pleasure-grounds  he  had  laid 
out,  and  much  else  to  interest  and  attract  the  eye — but 
nothing  could  be  compared  to  this.  If  Jesus  wandered 
about  the  city  as  He  might  have  done,  telling  her 
towers  and  marking  well  her  bulwarks,  He  would 
always  be  drawn  back  to  the  Temple.  It  was  His 
Father's  House,  and  His  heart  would  go  out  to  it  in  deep 
devotion.  There  would  be  nothing  to  interest  Him  so 
much  as  watching  its  services,  no  joy  like  that  of  joining 
in  the  prayers  in  the  solemn  hush  at  the  offering  up  of 
the  incense,  or  listening  to  the  wise  words  of  the  gentle 
old  men  who  taught  the  children  in  the  courts,  or  taking 


64  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

part  in  the  sweet  psalms,  which  the  white-robed  Levites 
sang,  morning  and  evening,  to  the  accompaniment  of 
flute  and  harp  and  cymbal. 

When  the  fourteenth  day  of  the  month  came,  Joseph 
bought  the  Passover  lamb.  At  sunset  it  would  be  killed, 
and  after  it  had  been  roasted  the  little  Passover  company 
would  gather  together,  and,  the  Passover  story  having 
been  retold,  the  lamb  would  be  solemnly  eaten  with  bitter 
herbs,  and  cakes  of  unleavened  bread.  Soon  after  this  the 
Nazareth  caravan  would  start  for  home. 

The  Passover  Feast  lasted  seven  days,  but  the  first 
three  days  were  really  the  important  ones,  and  when 
these  were  over  many  of  the  pilgrims  began  to  leave  the 
city,  especially  if  their  homes  lay  far  off.  The  start 
would  be  made  at  night,  or  at  any  rate  early  in  the 
morning  before  it  was  light.  JMany  other  caravans  would 
be  leaving  at  the  same  time  as  the  Nazareth  one.  The 
narrow  streets  would  be  full  of  torches  and  moving 
figures,  and  the  shouting  and  the  noise  would  be  very 
great.  We  can  understand  that  with  so  many  people 
jostling  one  another  it  would  be  a  very  difficult  thing  for 
members  of  a  large  party  to  keep  together ;  and  so,  in  the 
din  and  confusion  Jesus  is  left  behind. 

Mary  and  Joseph  did  not  discover  this  at  first.  No 
doubt,  when  they  were  clear  of  the  city  and  the  press, 
they  would  notice  He  was  not  with  them,  but  they 
would  not  be  alarmed.  *  He  is  with  some  of  the  others,' 
they  would  think ;  for  the  boys  in  a  caravan  would  often 
wander  away  from  their  parents'  sides  to  seek  their  play- 
mates, or  to  ride  with  other  friends.  But  as  night  drew 
on,  and  they  could  find  no  trace  of  Him  anywhere,  they 
became  alarmed,  and  early  the  next  morning  they  left  the 
caravan  and  went  back  to  Jerusalem  seeking  Him. 

JNIary's  heart  by  this  time  must  have  been  filled  with 


if"'"    '         J:1E'^ 

C 

Ji" 

M^^^ 

5'             i"^  "  ^ 

i^Bl    J 

•^' 

^'IBi ! '    ^ 

iB^     H|^^S^^^ 

^^..^^..m^f^amuc*,i^''im»   'm  ■ 

m-..   m 

awi^-  ".. 

-  -  ^  ■:^ii__Ji| 

JKSUS   AMONC.   -IHK    DOCTORS 


THE  VISIT  TO  THE  TEMPLE  65 

terror.  The  country  was  in  a  very  unsettled  state ;  there 
were  many  bad  characters  in  Jerusalem  itself,  and  many 
bands  of  robbers  wandering  about  the  country.  What 
if  Jesus  had  fallen  into  evil  hands  ?  What  if  He  had 
been  stolen  away,  like  Joseph  of  old,  and  she  should 
never  see  Him  again  ?  Quickly  Jerusalem  is  reached,  and 
the  search  for  Jesus  continues ;  but  neither  that  day  nor 
during  the  night,  can  any  trace  of  Him  be  found.  At  last, 
almost  in  despair,  Mary  and  Joseph  wander  into  the 
Temple,  and  there,  in  one  of  the  courts,  they  find  Him, 
surrounded  by  a  ring  of  doctors  of  the  law,  '  both  hearing 
them  and  asking  them  questions.'  The  wise  old  men 
were  looking  at  Him  with  wondering,  admiring  eyes. 
There  was  something  so  different  about  Him  from  all 
other  children  they  had  ever  met.  Such  a  holy  light 
shone  in  His  eyes ;  His  face  was  so  pure  and  beautiful ; 
and  when  He  spoke.  His  words  were  so  wise,  and  showed 
such  a  deep  and  wonderful  knowledge  about  Heavenly 
things,  that  they  could  not  help  being  astonished. 

Mary's  heart  must  have  given  a  great  leap  when  she 
saw  Him  standing  there.  We  seem  to  see  her  out- 
stretched arms,  and  to  hear  the  little  cry  of  joy  she  gives. 
Yet  she  would  not  break  in  upon  His  lesson,  or  rudely 
tear  Him  away  from  His  teachers,  after  her  first  sudden 
movement  towards  Him.  She  would  just  quietly  wait 
until  by  and  by  she  could  catch  His  eye ;  and  then  He 
would  leave  them  and  come  running  joyfully  to  her  side. 
Her  gentle  heart  was  still  aching  with  the  pain  and 
anxiety  she  had  gone  through,  and  so  when  she  speaks 
her  words  are  sad,  though  full  of  tenderness.  *  Son,  why 
hast  Thou  thus  dealt  with  us  ?  Behold  Thy  father  and  I 
have  sought  Thee  sorrowing,'  she  says.  And  Jesus  looks 
at  her  with  troubled  gaze,  grieved  that  He  should  have 
caused  her  ])ain.  and  yet  wondering  too.     Why  should 


66  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

she  have  felt  alarm  ?  Why  should  she  have  been  looking 
for  Him  as  if  He  had  been  lost?  'Did  ye  not  know  that  I 
must  be  in  My  Father's  House  ? '  It  seemed  so  strange  that 
they  should  think  of  Him  as  being  anywhere  but  there. 
It  seemed  so  strange  that  anything  should  be  thought  of 
more  importance  than  His  getting  to  learn  about  His 
Heavenly  Father's  will,  and  how  best  to  carry  it  out.  As 
Joseph  and  Mary  listened  to  His  words  they  did  not  under- 
stand them.  They  only  felt  that  in  some  strange  fashion 
He  was  drifting  away  beyond  their  reach.  Their  thoughts 
were  no  longer  His.  God  had  begun  to  reveal  to  Him  the 
work  to  which  He  had  been  appointed;  the  call  had  come; 
the  light  of  Heaven  was  fast  breaking  into  His  soul.  He 
was  no  longer  the  Holy  Child, '  He  was  the  gentle,  serious 
Boy,  looking  out  into  the  great  world  beyond,  and  seeing 
there — a  Cross  I '  And  yet  the  time  for  His  going  out 
into  the  world  had  not  yet  come,  and  He  was  content 
to  wait  patiently  until  His  father  should  call  Him  forth. 
And  so,  in  all  gentle  humility,  He  went  down  with 
Joseph  and  Mary  to  Nazareth,  '  and  was  subject  unto 
them.'     He  remained  there  for  eighteen  years. 

Dear  child,  we  have  been  thinking  of  Jesus'  journey 
to  Jerusalem.  May  we  not  see  in  this  a  parable  of  that 
other  and  longer  journey  of  His,  of  which  the  first  was 
but  a  type.  I  mean  the  journey  of  His  earthly  life, 
which  began  at  Bethlehem,  and  led  by  way  of  the  Calvary 
Cross  to  the  Mount  of  the  Ascension,  and  from  thence  up 
to  the  Jerusalem  which  is  above,  the  beautiful  Home  He 
left  when  He  came  down  to  save  the  world.  Yes,  all 
His  life  was  a  journey.  All  His  life  He  steadfastly  set 
His  face  to  go  up  to  that  Jerusalem.  He  never  once 
turned  aside ;  He  never  for  a  moment  forgot  that  His 
true  home  lay  there.  And  may  we  not  see  in  it  a 
parable  of  our  own  lives  as  well  ?     For  what  is  the  life  of 


THE  VISIT  TO  THE  TEMPLE  G7 

the  Christian  child  after  all  but  a  going  up  to  Jerusalem, 
a  going  up  to  where  He  now  is,  and  by  the  same  path 
He  trod  of  old.  There,  far  above  our  heads,  it  shines, 
the  Beautiful  City,  all  of  pure  gold  like  unto  clear  glass, 
with  its  gates  of  shining  pearl  and  its  foundations 
garnished  with  all  manner  of  precious  stones,  with  the 
glory  of  God  to  lighten  it.  Only,  the  way  seems  some- 
times long,  and  the  flowers  do  not  always  spring,  and 
there  are  hard  hills  to  be  climbed,  and  the  road  is  often 
rough.  Yet  the  great  Caravan  of  the  Church  moves  on, 
and  we  are  going  with  it.  By  and  by,  if  we  do  not  weary 
or  turn  aside,  we  shall  reach  the  gates  at  last ;  and  then 
all  the  bells  of  the  City  will  ring  out  *to  welcome  us 
thereto.' 

'Jerusalem  is  built  of  gold, 

Of  crystal,  pearl,  and  gem  : 
Oh  fair  thy  lustres  manifold. 

Thou  fair  Jerusalem ! 
Thy  citizens  who  walk  in  white 
Have  nought  to  do  with  day  or  night, 
And  drink  the  river  of  delight. 

'  Jerusalem  where  song  nor  gem 
Nor  fruit  nor  waters  cease, 
God  bring  us  to  Jerusalem, 

God  bring  us  home  in  peace ! 
The  strong  who  stand,  the  weak  who  fall, 
The  first  and  last,  the  great  and  small. 
Home  one  by  one,  home  one  and  all.' 

(Christina  Rosetti.) 


BOOK    II 

THE   SHINING   LIGHT 


The  quiet  hills,  the  skies  above, 

The  faces  round  were  bright  with  love  ; 

He  lost  not  in  the  tranquil  place 

One  hint  of  wisdom  or  of  grace  ; 

Not  unobserved,  nor  vague,  nor  dim. 

The  secret  of  the  world  to  Him, 

The  prayer  He  heard  which  Nature  saith 

In  the  still  glades  by  Nazareth. 

Yet  graver  by  the  growth  of  years 
The  stepj  the  face,  the  heart  appears  ; 
The  burden  of  the  world  He  knows. 
The  unloved  helper's  lonely  woes, 
Till,  when  the  summons  bids  Him  rise 
From  that  still  place  of  placid  skies. 
Fearless,  yet  sorrowing  unto  death, 
Jesus  goes  forth  from  Nazareth.' 


THE  PREACHING  OF  THE  KING  S  FORERUNNER — 
THE  BAPTISM  OF  JESUS 

We  come  now  to  the  story  of  hoAv  the  way  of  Jesus,  the 
King,  was  prepared  for  Him  by  His  Forerunner,  St. 
John,  and  how  He  Himself  was  anointed  and  crowned 
before  going  forth  to  battle. 

Thirty  years  had  passed  away  since  the  birth  of 
the  little  son  of  Zacharias  and  EHzabeth  ;  and  all  this 
time  St.  John,  like  Jesus,  had  been  living  a  life  hidden 
from  the  world,  preparing  himself  in  secret  for  the  work 
the  angel  had  foretold  he  should  do. 

Unlike  our  Lord,  however,  he  did  not  remain  quietly 
at  home.  As  soon  as  he  understood  what  his  work  was 
to  be,  he  left  his  pleasant  abode  among  the  green  hills  of 
Hebron,  and  wandered  away  into  the  desert,  far  from  the 
haunts  of  men,  to  be  alone  with  God. 

Often  in  the  history  of  the  world,  when  a  man  has 
heard  God's  voice  calling  him  to  do  some  great  work  for 
Him,  he  has  felt  the  need  of  withdrawing  himself  from 
the  world  for  a  time,  and  seeking  some  quiet  place 
where  he  could  be  alone  to  think  over  the  task  God  has  set 
him,  and  pray  about  it  and  train  himself  to  carry  it  out. 

Sometimes  the  work  has  not  taken  very  long  to  do 
in  the  end,  and  has  been  of  a  very  simple  kind ;  but 
without  the  quiet  time  spent  alone  with  God  it  could  not 
have  been  done  at  all. 


72  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

So  it  was  with  St.  John.  He  knew  the  voice  would 
come  to  him  one  day,  caUing  him  to  a  post  of  honour  in 
the  army  of  the  great  King ;  he  knew  that  he  was  to  be 
the  pioneer  to  go  before  Jesus,  as  in  olden  days  pioneers 
were  sent  before  the  king  with  axe  and  hammer  and 
spade,  to  make  the  road  fit  for  his  travelling.  To  pre- 
pare for  this  post  he  felt  he  must  go  apart,  and  train 
himself  to  endure  hardness  by  prayer  and  fasting  and 
lonely  vigil. 

And  so  he  chose  a  desert  life ;  and  many  years  passed 
by  and  still  he  lived  apart.  Only  those  long  years,  spent 
alone  with  God,  were  not  wasted  years  for  all  that. 
When  the  voice  spoke  at  last,  calling  him  forth  to  do  his 
work,  he  did  it  faithfully  and  well.  And  it  was  his  life 
in  the  desert  which  helped  him  to  do  it — to  do  it  in  the 
right  way  and  at  the  right  moment,  and  just  as  God 
willed  it  to  be  done. 

The  wilderness  which  St.  John  had  chosen  for  his 
home  was  a  sort  of  huge  sunken  valley,  stretching  away 
eastwards  from  the  hill  country  of  Judsea  to  the  shores 
of  the  great  *  Dead  Sea,'  as  it  was  called,  a  desolate 
inland  sea  at  the  foot  of  Palestine,  into  which  the  river 
Jordan  emptied  its  waters. 

The  Jews  called  it  '  the  Horror,'  for  it  was  the  most 
lonely  and  dreary  spot  imaginable.  As  far  as  eye  could 
reach  nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  a  stony  waste  of  bare 
and  rocky  hilltops,  all  tumbled  together  in  wild  con- 
fusion, with  steep  ravines  running  in  and  out  between 
them,  where  no  trees  grew  and  no  sound  of  running 
water  was  ever  heard.  Hot,  stifling  winds  blew  across 
its  surface.  The  snake's  hiss  and  raven's  croak  by  day, 
and  the  long-drawn  howl  of  the  wild  beast  by  night,  were 
the  only  sounds  that  ever  broke  its  stillness. 

Here,  in  some  limestone  cave  among  the  rocks,  St 


THE  KING'S  FORERUNNER  73 

John  took  up  his  abode ;  and  here  he  lived  liis  hard,  wild, 
solitary  life  from  day  to  day ;  his  only  drink  a  draught  of 
water  from  some  hidden  spring ;  his  only  food  the  locusts 
of  the  desert,  and  the  honey  of  wild  bees  that  hived  in 
the  rocky  cliffs. 

At  last  God's  voice  spoke  to  him  and  told  him  that 
the  hour  had  come  for  him  to  leave  his  lonely  cell,  and 
to  go  forth  to  proclaim  the  coming  of  the  King.  And  so 
St.  John  went  forth  to  preach  and  to  teach,  and  soon  the 
whole  land  was  ringing  with  his  fame. 

The  caravans  that  passed  through  the  desert  would 
be  the  first  to  spread  abroad  the  tidings  that  a  great 
prophet  had  arisen  in  the  wilderness,  and  as  the  news 
spread  the  excitement  grew,  until  great  crowds  from  all 
parts  of  the  country  began  to  gather  about  him  as  he 
taught.  From  far-off  Tyre  and  Sidon,  from  fair  Jeru- 
salem, from  the  rugged  mountains  of  Judaea,  from  the 
towns  and  villages  of  Galilee,  they  came  streaming  forth 
to  listen  to  the  burning,  fiery  words  of  the  new  preacher. 

There  among  the  multitude  might  have  been  seen 
the  proud  Pharisee,  in  his  long  flowing  tunic  with  its 
tassels  of  white  and  blue ;  there  too  the  high-born 
Sadducee  with  his  sneering  face,  drawn  to  the  desert  by 
curiosity  to  see  who  this  new  prophet  might  be.  Roman 
tax-gatherers,  country  farmers ;  fishermen,  labourers, 
soldiers ;  high  and  low,  good  and  bad,  all  sorts  and 
conditions  of  men  would  be  there.  And  St.  John  had 
a  message  for  them  all. 

We  seem  to  see  him  as  he  stands  before  them — the  great 
stern  prophet,  whose  name  is  on  everybody's  lips — his 
spare,  gaunt  form  covered  with  a  rough -garment  of  camel's 
hair,  his  long,  tangled  locks  falling  in  masses  over  his 
shoulders,  his  eyes  flashing  with  strange  unearthly  light. 

What  wonderful  sermons   those  were  of  his !     No- 


74  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

body  had  ever  heard  anything  like  them  before.  The 
words  seemed  to  come  straight  from  his  heart,  and  had 
the  clear,  brave  ring  of  a  silver  trumpet.  He  did  not 
wrap  his  message  up  in  fine  words;  he  spoke  it  just  as 
God  put  it  into  his  mouth,  quite  plainly  and  fearlessly ; 
not  minding  if  he  gave  offence,  for  he  was  afraid  of  no 
one  in  all  the  world  but  God. 

Sin,  and  the  need  of  true  repentance  for  sin,  that  was 
the  text  from  which  he  preached.  He  rebuked  the 
Pharisee  for  his  hypocrisy,  and  told  him  that  broadening 
the  fringes  of  his  garments,  and  making  long  prayers  for 
a  pretence,  would  never  save  him.  He  rebuked  the 
tax-collector  for  his  cheating  and  lying,  the  soldier  for 
his  cruelty  and  discontent.  He  told  the  proud  and  self- 
satisfied  among  the  people,  that  it  was  of  little  use  their 
being  proud  of  the  fact  that  they  were  the  children  of 
Abraham,  since  God  could  raise  up  children  to  Abraham 
even  from  the  desert  stones.  It  was  the  character  and 
the  life  God  cared  about,  not  the  name  or  the  long 
descent.  Were  they  bringing  forth  good  fruit  in  their 
lives  ?  That  was  the  question.  If  not,  let  them  beware ; 
for  the  woodman  was  on  his  way  through  the  forest,  and 
the  fruitless  trees  had  been  marked,  and  the  axe  was 
being  got  ready. 

And  then  he  would  go  on  to  speak  of  the  Kingdom 
of  Heaven  that  the  Christ,  whose  messenger  he  was, 
should  soon  set  up  on  the  earth,  and  of  the  new  reign  of 
righteousness  and  peace  that  was  coming  on.  And  as 
he  spoke  of  this,  men's  eyes  would  kindle  and  their  faces 
grow  glad,  for  the  times  were  evil,  and  wickedness  and 
oppression  reigned  everywhere  ;  and  all  hearts  were  long- 
ing for  the  coming  of  the  King.  He  would  tell  of  the 
glory  and  splendour  of  the  Christ,  and  speak  in  humble 
tones  of  his  own  unworthiness  even  to  carry  the  King's 


THE  KING'S  FORERUNNER  75 

sandals  and  serve  Him  as  His  slave ;  he  would  tell  of  the 
great  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit  the  Christ  should  bring ;  and 
the  separation  He  would  make  between  the  evil  and  the 
good. 

And  the  closing  words  of  the  great  preacher  would 
always  be  the  same.  Would  they  enter  into  Christ's 
Kingdom  ?  let  them  first  repent  them  of  their  sins.  The 
new  kingdom  was  not  for  the  sin-loving  and  disobedient ; 
they  only  could  share  its  blessings  whose  hearts  were 
right  with  God. 

So  St.  John  delivered  his  message,  and  his  words  went 
home  to  many  a  sinful  heart.  Crowds  pressed  around 
him  confessing  their  sins,  and  beseeching  him  to  show 
them  how  to  get  ready  to  receive  the  Christ.  And  then 
St.  John  would  lead  them  down  to  the  banks  of  the 
river  Jordan,  and  pour  water  upon  their  heads  in  token 
that  they  were  really  sorry  for  their  sins  and  intended 
henceforth  to  live  new  and  better  lives. 

In  this  way  St.  John  did  his  work  in  preparing  men's 
hearts  to  receive  Jesus,  and  so  the  King's  highway  was 
being  got  ready. 

And  all  the  while  how  humble  the  Baptist  was  !  He 
did  not  seek  success  or  fame  for  himself.  It  was  Christ  the 
King  of  whose  honour  and  glory  he  was  always  dreaming. 
Had  he  willed  it  he  might  have  set  himself  up  in  the 
King's  place,  and  there  would  have  been  thousands  of 
people  to  believe  in  him,  and  to  follow  him  to  the  death. 
But  he  would  not  do  it.  Once  we  are  told  how  the 
Scribes  and  Pharisees  of  Jerusalem,  who  had  heard  of 
his  wonderful  doings,  sent  to  ask  him  whether  he  were 
the  Christ  or  no;  and  his  answer  was  that  he  was  only  a 
voice — a  voice  crying  in  the  wilderness.  He  was  willing 
to  be  nothing,  that  Christ  might  be  everything.  He  only 
lived  for  the  King. 


76  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Presently,  as  we  shall  see,  the  King  came  at  last,  and 
St.  John's  work  being  done  he  was  content  quietly  to 
disappear;  just  as  the  morning  star  shines  for  a  while  in 
the  darkness  and  then  faints  and  grows  dim  at  dawn,  and 
at  last  melts  away  and  is  lost  to  sight  altogether  before 
the  glory  of  the  rising  sun. 

^leanwhile  the  news  of  the  Baptist's  wonderful  work 
had  reached  Jesus  in  the  lowly  workshop  of  Nazareth, 
and  He  knew  that  the  days  of  His  waiting  were  now  at 
an  end.  Good-bye,  at  last,  to  chisel  and  plane  and  the 
carpenter's  bench;  good-bye  to  the  little  white  town  among 
the  hills,  the  quiet  fields,  the  old  familiar  home !  There 
before  Him  stretched  the  thorny  path  His  feet  must 
follow  now,  the  hard  steep  path  God  had  marked  out  for 
Him  to  tread,  the  path  of  self-sacrifice  and  of  pain — the 
way  of  the  Cross. 

'  That  evening  when  the  Carpenter  swept  out 

The  fragrant  shavings  from  the  workshop  floor. 
And  placed  the  tools  in  order,  and  shut  to 

And  barred,  for  the  last  time,  the  humble  door. 
And  going  on  His  way  to  save  the  world 

Turned  from  the  labourer's  lot  for  evermore, 
I  wonder — was  he  glad  ? 

*  That  morning  when  the  Carpenter  walked  forth 
From  Joseph's  doorway  in  the  glimmering  light, 
And  bade  His  holy  mother  long  farewell, 

And  through  the  rose-shot  skies  with  dawning  bright, 
Saw  glooming  dark  the  shadows  of  the  Cross, 

Yet  seeing,  set  His  face  towards  Calvary's  height, 
I  Avonder — was  He  sad?' 

I  think  there  must  hav^e  been  sadness  and  gladness 
both  at  Jesus'  heart.  He  would  be  sad,  for  He  knew  how 
slow  the  world  would  be  to  receive  the  message  which 
He  had  come  to  bring ;  how  hard  and  almost  hopeless 


THE  KING'S  FORERUNNER  77 

He  would  find  the  task  of  winning  it  back  to  God  ;  how 
men  woukl  disbelieve  and  reject  Him,  and  repay  His 
love  with  cruelty  and  ill-will.  And  yet  He  would  be 
filled  with  a  great  gladness  too,  for  it  was  His  Father's 
work  He  was  going  forth  to  do,  and  success  must  crown 
it  in  the  end.  First  the  sadness  and  disappointment  and 
the  seeming  failure — then  the  victory  and  the  song;  dark- 
ness and  the  shadow  of  death  now — afterwards  the  light 
of  the  Resurrection  morning,  and  in  the  end,  the  glory 
of  the  new  Heaven  and  the  new  Earth,  with  sin  and 
death  destroyed,  and  poor  fallen  man  brought  back  again 
to  God. 

Jesus  would  only  have  His  mother  to  whom  to  bid 
farewell,  the  day  He  went  out  into  the  world  to  begin 
the  work  which  lay  before  Him.  Good,  patient,  un- 
selfish Joseph,  who  had  guarded  Him  so  tenderly  and 
with  such  loving  care  when  He  was  a  little  child,  had  no 
doubt  by  this  time  passed  away.  At  any  rate  we  never 
hear  of  him  again  after  the  return  to  Nazareth  when 
Jesus  was  twelve  years  old. 

Jesus  travelled  down  to  the  south  country  by  the  old 
well-remembered  road ;  and  everywhere  as  He  passed 
along  He  would  hear  the  people  talking  about  St. 
John,  and  asking  one  another  whether  it  was  true  that 
the  Christ  had  really  come. 

Then,  unnoticed  and  unknown,  He  appeared  one  day 
upon  the  banks  of  the  Jordan,  and  mingled  with  the 
crowd  that  pressed  around  St.  John  to  listen  to  his 
message.  There  face  to  face  they  stood  at  last — the 
herald  and  the  King — only,  St.  John  did  not  know 
Jesus.  They  had  lived  far  apart  from  one  another  all 
these  years,  and  he  may  never  have  even  seen  Him 
before. 

By  and   by,  for  that  day  at  least,  the  last  warning 


78  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

words  are  spoken,  the  last  earnest  appeal  is  made,  and 
the  Baptist  makes  his  way  down  to  the  river,  and  standing 
among  the  shallows  begins  to  baptize.  One  after  another 
out  of  the  great  crowd  presses  forward  confessing  his 
sins  and  pledging  himself  henceforth  to  lead  a  new  and 
better  life,  and  St.  John  in  every  case  pours  water  upon 
his  head,  as  a  sign  of  the  solemn  choice  he  has  made  to 
serve  and  follow  God. 

Then  Jesus  Himself  draws  near.  Perhaps  He  had 
waited  until  all  the  rest  had  departed,  in  order  to  be  alone 
with  His  servant.  Now  He  comes  forward  and  asks  to 
be  baptized  just  as  the  others  had  been. 

St.  John,  as  he  looked  upon  Jesus  and  heard  His 
words,  was  strangely  troubled.  There  was  something  in 
His  earnest  piercing  glance  that  seemed  to  read  his 
very  heart.  Everything  about  Jesus — His  calm  and 
kingly  bearing,  the  purity  and  splendour  of  that  face 
which  no  shadow  of  sin  had  ever  dimmed — spoke  of  a 
life  lived  in  the  very  presence  of  God  Himself,  and  St. 
John  felt  ashamed  and  humbled,  he  knew  not  why.  Who 
could  this  holy  Stranger  be  ? 

*  I  have  need  to  be  baptized  of  Thee,  and  comest 
Thou  to  me  ? '  he  asks.  And  Jesus  answers  *  Suffer  it  to 
be  so  now,  for  thus  it  becometh  us  to  fulfil  all  righteous- 
ness ' — as  though  He  would  say,  '  It  is  true  I  have  no 
need  to  be  baptized  for  I  am  the  Son  of  God,  but  I  am 
also  the  Son  of  Man,  come  to  live  man's  life  and  to  be 
made  like  man  in  all  things  except  sin — so  that  whatever 
the  law  ordains  I  will  submit  to.  I  will  set  an  example 
of  perfect  obedience  to  all  that  God  requires.' 

And  so  St.  John  suffers  Him  and,  entering  into  the 
water,  Jesus  is  baptized.  And  lo  !  as  the  water  falls 
upon  His  head,  the  blue  veil  of  the  sky  is  rent  in  twain 
and  a  wondrous  shaft  of  light  streams  down,  and,  sailing 


THE    IIAPTIS.M    or   JESUS 


THE  BAPTISM  OF  JESUS  79 

upon  its  beams  and  lighting  upon  Him,  comes  the  form 
of  what  looks  like  a  beautiful  white  bird,  '  a  dove  that  is 
covered  with  silver  wings  and  her  feathers  like  gold.' 

It  was  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God  who  had  come  to  rest 
upon  Jesus,  to  anoint  Him  and  to  crown  Him  for  His 
work. 

And  then  the  solemn  stillness  is  broken  by  a  voice — 
the  awful  voice  of  the  Father  Himself  speaking  from 
Heaven,  '  This  is  My  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well 
pleased.' 

And  so  John  the  herald  knew  that  the  King  had 
come  at  last.  And  this  is  the  witness  he  bore — '  I  saw 
the  Spirit  descending  from  Heaven  like  a  dove,  and  it 
abode  upon  Him.  .  .  .  And  I  saw  and  bare  record  that 
this  is  the  Son  of  God.' 


II 

HOW  THE   KING   FOUGHT   HIS    BATTLE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS 

The  outpouring  of  God's  Holy  Spirit  upon  Jesus  at  His 
baptism  marks  the  beginning  of  a  new  chapter  in  the 
story  of  The  Wonderful  Life. 

He  was  now  solemnly  set  apart  for  the  great  work  He 
had  come  to  do,  as  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  and  God  had 
girded  Him  with  strength  to  carry  it  out.  He  stood 
armed  and  ready :  armed  to  face  the  difficulties  and 
dangers,  the  hardships  and  disappointments  that  lay 
before  Him ;  ready  to  go  forward  with  brave  and  stead- 
fast heart  to  tread  the  way  of  sorrow,  and  at  last  to  climb 
the  hill  of  the  Cross  upon  whose  top  He  knew  He  was 
soon  to  die. 

But  there  was  first  a  battle  for  Him  to  fight ;  an  awful 
lonely  battle,  with  no  one  but  the  angels  to  look  on ;  in 
which  He  was  to  meet  the  great  enemy  of  souls,  the  devil ; 
and  to  have  His  armour  tested  and  His  strength  tried 
to  the  very  uttermost. 

The  evening  had  come  on  and  the  crowds  had  dis- 
persed to  their  homes ;  John,  too,  had  gone,  and  Jesus 
was  left  alone. 

All  kinds  of  great  and  wonderful  thoughts  were  making 
music  in  His  soul.  He  could  not  rest ;  He  felt  He  must 
go  apart  to  prepare  for  the  task  that  lay  before  Him ;  to 
ponder  over  the  message  God  had  sent,  and  to  let  the 
meaning  of  the  Heavenly  vision  sink  into  His  heart.    And 


JESUS  IN  THE  WILDERNESS  81 

so  He  wandered  away  over  the  wild  and  dreary  desert 
waste,  to  be  alone  with  God. 

For  forty  days  and  nights  He  wandered  there,  seeing 
no  human  form  and  hearing  no  liuman  voice ;  the  only 
curtain  spread  over  Him  at  night,  the  jewelled  mantle  of 
the  wide,  wide  sky  ;  His  only  companions,  the  wild  beasts 
that  prowled  around,  but  could  not  hurt  Him,  since  God 
had  shut  their  mouths. 

So  rapt  in  earnest  prayer  and  holy  thought  was  He, 
so  near  He  trod  to  God  and  Heaven,  that  the  earth 
seemed  to  fade  away,  and  He  felt  neither  thirst  nor 
hunger ;  only  a  great  longing  to  carry  out  His  Heavenly 
Father's  will,  and  finish  the  work  He  had  given  Him 
to  do. 

Thus  the  long  days  and  nights  went  by  almost  un- 
noticed, and  then  Jesus  came  back  to  the  things  of 
everyday  life  once  more. 

After  the  great  strain  He  had  gone  through,  He  was 
weak  and  faint  and  very  hungry;  and  it  was  just  at  this 
moment  that  the  devil  drew  near  to  tempt  Him  and  try 
to  catch  Him  in  his  net. 

The  devil,  too,  had  been  waiting  all  down  the  ages  for 
the  coming  of  the  Saviour,  only  with  fear  and  dread.  He 
would  not  forget  those  stern  words,  spoken  as  he  cowered 
before  God  in  his  snake's  dress  in  Eden,  warning  him  that 
the  seed  of  the  woman  should  bruise  his  head.  Their 
meaning  was,  he  knew,  that  a  Saviour  should  be  born 
one  day  into  the  w^orld  who  should  break  his  power. 
And  now  the  Saviour  had  come,  and  this  lonely  wanderer 
in  the  desert,  with  the  steadfast  eyes  and  sad  and  earnest 
face,  was  He. 

The  time  had  arrived  for  the  great  struggle  which 
should  decide  the  final  victory  between  good  and  evil ; 
whether  Christ's  purpose  in  coming  to  save  man  should 

¥ 


82  THE  CHILD  S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

succeed  or  whether  it  should  be  defeated  ;  whether  in  the 
end  God  should  win  the  day  or  whether  the  devil  should 
triumph  again  as  he  did  in  Eden. 

Satan  knew  well  that  if  he  could  tempt  Jesus  to 
commit  one  single  sin,  His  power  to  save  the  world 
would  be  gone,  and  so  he  came  prepared  to  use  all  the 
craft  and  cunning  at  his  command  to  carry  out  his  ends. 

In  what  shape  he  came  we  do  not  know.  The  devil 
is  a  spirit,  and  perhaps  he  did  not  come  in  any  visible 
form  at  all,  but  whispered  his  temptations  into  Jesus'  ear 
unseen,  and  painted  his  bright  attractive  pictures  before 
His  eyes,  just  as  he  whispers  in  our  ears  to-day,  and 
paints  the  pictures  that  make  us  long  after  the  things 
that  God  forbids.  Some  have  thought  that  he  came  as 
a  glorious  angel  with  radiant  face,  bringing  pretended 
messages  from  Heaven ;  some  again  that  he  came  in  the 
form  of  an  ordinary  traveller  through  the  desert.  The 
poet  ^lilton,  for  instance,  describes  his  appearance  as  that 
of  an  old  man  in  homely  garments — 

'As  seemed  in  quest  of  some  stray  ewe. 
Or  withered  sticks  to  gather.' 

One  thing,  I  think,  at  any  rate  we  may  be  sure  of,  and 
it  is  this,  that  if  the  devil  came  in  any  bodily  form  at  all  it 
would  be  in  some  pleasing  shape,  and  not  in  any  dark  and 
awful  one.  It  was  his  aim  to  tempt  and  to  deceive,  and 
he  would  be  anxious  to  put  Jesus  off  His  guard  in  every 
way  he  could. 

And  how  did  he  set  to  work  to  try  to  lead  Him  into 
sin  ?  If  we  read  the  history  of  the  Temptation  we  shall 
see  what  his  plan  was.  It  was  to  try  to  get  Jesus  to 
choose  an  easier,  pleasanter  path  than  the  hard  one  God 
had  marked  out  for  Him ;  to  lead  Him  to  take  His  own 
way  instead  of  God's  way;  'to  make  God  His  servant 
rather  than  Himself  the  servant  of  God. 


JESUS  IN  THE  WILDERNESS  83 

The  first  temptation  seemed  an  innocent  one  enough. 

Jesus,  I  have  said,  was  faint  and  hungry  after  His 
lono;  fast  and  viffil,  and  scattered  on  the  around  around 
Him  were  the  numberless  round  flat  stones  of  the 
desert.  Perhaps  as  He  looked  at  them  He  could  not 
help  thinking  how  much  like  little  loaves  of  bread  they 
seemed,  and  then  the  devil  would  whisper,  '  Why  not 
make  them  into  loaves  ?  You  have  the  power  to  do 
this,  if,  as  you  say,  you  are  the  Son  of  God.'  And 
Jesus  had  the  power.  It  would  have  been  quite  as 
easy  for  Him  to  change  stones  into  bread,  as  to  turn 
water  into  wine,  which  we  find  Him  doing  afterwards  at 
the  marriage  feast  of  Cana. 

Why  then  did  He  not  do  it  ?  Because  it  would  have 
been  a  proof  of  weakness  instead  of  strength.  Jesus 
knew  that  His  Father  had  not  forgotten  Him ;  He  felt 
sure  that  He  would  send  Him  food  to  eat,  in  His  own 
way  and  in  His  own  good  time,  and  that  there  was  only 
need  of  patient  waiting.  Besides,  though  He  was  the 
Son  of  God,  and  so  able  to  work  a  miracle  for  Himself 
had  He  liked.  He  would  not  forget  that  He  was  the  Son 
of  JNIan  as  well,  and  had  come  to  live  just  as  His  brothers 
lived,  and  He  would  scorn  to  use  a  power  to  help  Himself 
which  they  did  not  possess. 

And  so  He  answers  the  tempter  in  the  words  which 
Closes  used  in  speaking  to  the  Israelites  of  God's  pro- 
tecting care,  '  ^lan  shall  not  live  by  bread  alone,  but  by 
every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God.' 
In  other  words,  '  There  are  higher  things  than  bread  to 
think  of;  there  is  the  life  of  the  soul,  there  is  the  will 
of  God  to  be  taken  into  account.  I  put  myself  in  God's 
hands,  I  am  content  to  trust  Him  for  what  I  need,  just  as 
My  brothers  have  to  do.' 

Disappointed  in  his  first  attack,  the  devil  thinks  to 


84  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

use  this  very  trust  in  God,  which  Jesus  shows,  as  a  weapon 
of  offence.  He  carries  Him  to  Jerusalem  and  sets 
Him  down  on  one  of  the  pinnacles  of  the  Temple ;  per- 
haps the  topmost  turret  of  the  great  porch  which  looked 
towards  the  East,  and  overhung  the  valley  of  Jehoshaphat, 
with  the  little  brook  Cedron  shining  at  its  foot ;  perhaps 
the  summit  of  the  tower  from  whence  the  priests  looked 
out  each  morning  at  the  dawn  of  day,  to  catch  the  first 
glint  of  gold  upon  the  hills  of  Hebron,  which  was  the 
signal  for  the  morning  sacrifice. 

There  upon  some  narrow  ledge,  high  in  air,  with  the 
ravens  wheeHng  and  screaming  around  them,  they  stood, 
the  tempter  and  the  Tempted ;  and  as  Jesus  gazes  into  the 
dizzy  depth  below,  He  hears  the  devil's  whisper,  '  If 
Thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  cast  Thyself  down ;  for  it  is 
written.  He  shall  give  His  angels  charge  concerning 
Thee ;  and  in  their  hands  they  shall  bear  Thee  up,  lest 
at  any  time  Thou  dash  Thy  foot  against  a  stone.' 

It  was  as  though  he  said,  'You  were  quite  right  just 
now  to  trust  in  God ;  well,  here  is  another  and  an  even 
more  splendid  way  of  showing  your  trust !  Throw  yourself 
down.  God's  angels  will  bear  you  up  in  their  strong  and 
loving  hands  and  keep  you  safe.'  But  Jesus  answers, 
'  Thou  shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God.'  It  is  wrong, 
that  is  to  say,  to  presume  on  God's  love  and  willingness 
to  take  care  of  you.  It  is  a  false  trust  to  run  into  need- 
less danger  and  expect  His  help.  God  promises  safety 
to  those  who  walk  in  the  way  of  His  commandments ; 
not  to  those  who  follow  paths  of  their  own  choosing. 

Perhaps  there  was  a  further  temptation  wrapped  up 
in  the  devil's  words.  There  was  an  ancient  tradition, 
it  is  said,  among  the  Jews,  that  the  Christ  when  He  came 
would  show  Himself  on  the  Temple  ramparts  at  sunrise 
and  proclaim  Himself  King.     It  may  have  been  the  hour 


THE   TEMPTATION 


JESUS  IN  THE  WILDETINESS  85 

of  sunrise  when  Jesus  stood  where  He  did.     If  so  the 
Temple  Courts  below  would  be  full  of  worshippers. 

What  if  He  really  were  to  throw  Himself  down  and  be 
caught  by  angel  hands  ?  Would  it  not  be  a  sign  to  the 
people  that  He  really  was  the  Christ  ?  Would  they  not 
be  dazzled  at  the  wonderful  sight ;  and  would  it  not  be 
an  easy  way  of  winning  them  over  to  believe  in  Him? 

Yes,  it  would  have  been  an  easy  way  perhaps — only 
He  had  not  come  to  choose  easy  ways  for  Himself  The 
right  way,  God's  way,  that  was  the  way  He  had  come 
to  tread,  and  He  willed  to  tread  it  to  the  end.  And  so 
once  more  He  faces  the  strong  temptation  and  con- 
quers it ;  and  for  the  second  time  the  devil's  purpose 
is  defeated. 

And  now,  like  a  desperate  gambler,  the  tempter  stakes 
everything  on  one  last  throw.  '  The  devil  taketh  Him,'  St. 
Matthew  tells  us,  '  up  into  an  exceeding  high  mountain, 
and  showeth  Him  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  the 
glory  of  them ;  and  saith  unto  Him,  All  these  things  will 
I  give  Thee,  if  Thou  wilt  fall  down  and  worship  me.' 

AVhat  a  splendid  sight  that  must  have  been,  when,  as 
by  the  waving  of  a  magician's  wand,  the  splendour  and 
glory  of  all  the  earth  slowly  unrolled  itself  before  Jesus' 
eyes  like  the  unrolling  of  some  mighty  scroll,  set  about 
with  jewels  and  all  ablaze  with  gold  and  colour. 

And  yet  it  was  not  upon  the  splendour  and  glory  of 
the  earth  that  Jesus'  wistful  eyes  were  fixed.  All  the 
riches  of  the  world,  all  earthly  rule  and  power  and  the 
many  crowns  of  empire,  were  but  poor  bribes  to  Him  who 
had  given  up  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  itself,  to  come 
down  to  earth  to  suffer  and  to  die,  and  who  had  laid  aside 
a  crown  more  glorious  far  than  any  earthly  king  had 
ever  worn. 

He  looked  beyond  and  below  all  the  glitter  and  the 


86  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

pomp,  as  Satan  meant  He  should  do.  It  was  not  the 
world  itself  He  wanted ;  it  was  men's  hearts,  their  love, 
their  worship,  their  obedience  that  He  craved.  And  it 
was  just  this  that  Satan  seemed  to  offer  Him.  The  devil 
claimed  it  all  as  '  Prince  of  this  world,'  and  he  offered  to 
give  it  up,  to  renounce  his  claim  in  Jesus'  favour,  if  Jesus 
would  only  accept  the  gift  as  coming  from  himself,  and 
pay  him  in  return  one  single  act  of  homage. 

To  conquer  the  world,  to  win  the  hearts  of  men — why, 
this  was  the  very  thing  which  Jesus  had  left  the  glory  of 
Heaven  to  do ;  this  was  the  great  purpose  of  His  life,  the 
one  desire  of  His  heart.  To  give  way  would  mean  the 
setting  up  of  His  kingdom  at  once  with  no  more  need  of 
waiting ;  it  would  mean  the  crown  without  the  conflict, 
the  victory  without  the  bitter  fight. 

And  it  could  all  be  brought  about  so  easily,  as  it 
seemed. 

'  The  tears  of  all  the  helpless  ones 
Thou  couldst  not  bear  to  see  ; 
"  All  power  is  Thine,"  the  tempter  said, 
"  If  Thou  wilt  worship  me. 

' "  All  will  I  give  without  the  cross, 
W^ithout  the  bitter  pain — 
A  world  restored,  a  kingdom  bought ; 
Begin  at  once  Thy  reign."  ' 

Ah !  but  Jesus  would  not  do  evil  that  good  might 
come.  The  temptation  was  there,  but  He  thrust  it  away 
with  all  His  might.  It  was  what  was  asked  of  Him  in 
return  for  the  promised  gift  that  showed  Him  the  vision 
was  not  from  God.  He  knew  it  never  could  be  right  to 
pay  to  another  what  God  alone  had  a  right  to  claim. 
And  so,  turning  to  the  devil,  seen  at  last  in  his  true 
colours  as  the  enemy  of  God,  and  His  own  great  foe,  He 
issues  the  stern  command, '  Get  thee  hence,  Satan  :  for  it  is 


JESUS  IN  THE  WILDERNESS  87 

written,  Thou  shalt  worsliip  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  Him 
only  shalt  thou  serve.' 

'  Then  the  devil  leaveth  Him,'  baffled,  disappointed, 
and  cast  down.  The  battle  was  at  an  end,  and  the  King 
had  come  forth  victorious.  Oh,  what  joy  there  must 
have  been  in  Heaven  that  day !  How  the  angels  of  God 
wlio  had  wept  over  Adam's  fall  and  the  sight  of  a  ruined 
world,  must  have  rejoiced  at  the  victory  of  the  King ! 
With  anxious  eyes  they  had  watched  the  fight;  and 
now  that  it  was  over,  they  brought  Him  food  from 
Heaven  in  their  hands,  and  gathering  round  Him  tended 
Him  in  His  weariness  with  gentle,  loving  ministry. 

That  night  beneath  the  desert  sky  He  slept  a  dreamless 
sleep  ;  and  mingled  with  the  sighing  of  the  desert  wind 
you  might  have  heard  the  rustling  of  the  angels'  wings. 

Dear  child,  the  story  of  Jesus'  temptation  in  the 
wilderness,  and  the  victory  He  won  there,  is  the  story  of 
the  battle  that  awaits  us  all,  and  of  the  victory  we  too 
may  win  if  we  will  only  follow  in  His  steps.  Over  and 
over  again  on  the  battlefield  of  the  world  the  children  of 
Jesus  will  have  to  fight  the  same  hard  fight  He  fought, 
against  the  same  strong  foe,  who  did  his  best  to  conquer 
Him  of  old.  The  temptations  that  met  Him  are  sure  to 
meet  us  too — temptations  to  doubt  God's  love  and  care, 
to  leave  the  path  He  has  marked  out  for  us,  for  our  own ; 
to  do  wrong  because  it  is  easier  than  to  do  right — and  to 
overcome  these  we  shall  have  to  fight  very  bravely.  Let 
it  hearten  and  encourage  us  to  remember  how  Jesus 
fought.  He  did  not  use  His  heavenly  armour.  He  took 
no  advantage  we  could  not  have.  He  came  down  to  our 
level.  One  pictures  Him  as  some  brave  knight  of  old, 
leading  his  peasant  soldiers  on  to  battle,  and  putting  off 
his  suit  of  glittering  mail  and  polished  helmet,  and  laying 
aside  his  shield,  to  fight  just  as  his  brothers  had  to  fight 


88  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

who  had  none  of  these  thmgs  to  help  them.  So  as  He 
fought  and  conquered,  we  may  hope  to  fight  and  conquer 
too.  But  more  than  this ;  if  we  keep  close  to  Him  He 
will  help  us,  and  we  shall  not  fight  alone. 

There  is  a  story  told  of  King  Henry  of  Navarre,  how 
once  when  he  was  going  into  battle  he  bound  a  snow- 
white  plume  of  feathers  in  his  helmet,  saying  to  his 
soldiers,  '  If  my  standard-bearer  falls,  let  this  be  your 
standard — it  will  lead  you  to  victory.' 

So  our  King  goes  before  His  soldiers  to  bring  them 
on  their  way  and  give  them  good  success. 

'Courage,  then,'  says  the  old  book  of  The  Imitation  of 
Christ,  '  let  us  go  forward  together.  Jesus  will  be  with 
us.  He  will  be  our  Helper,  who  is  also  our  Guide  and 
Forerunner.  Behold  our  King  entereth  in  before  us, 
and  He  will  fight  for  us.' 


Ill 


THE   CAIX   OF   THE    FIRST    DISCIPLES — PIOW    JESUS    TURNED 
WATER    INTO    WINE    AT    THE    INIARRIAGE    FEAST    OF    CANA 

After  the  first  meeting  between  the  herald  and  tlie 
King,  St.  John  still  continued  his  task  of  preaching  and 
baptizing. 

He  was  able  now,  however,  to  speak  much  more 
plainly  to  the  people  about  the  Christ.  He  could  tell 
them  that  the  King  had  really  come  at  last ;  that  he  had 
seen  Him  with  his  own  eyes,  and  that  the  lowly  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  was  He. 

Jesus  still  lingered  by  the  banks  of  the  river  Jordan, 
and  twice  at  least  St.  John  was  able  to  point  Him  out  to 
others — first  to  the  crowd,  as  the  King  passed  by  one  day 
while  he  was  preaching,  and  the  next  day  to  two  of  his 
own  disciples,  when  they  were  alone  together.  Both 
times  John  called  Jesus  by  a  strange  and  beautiful  name. 
'  Behold,'  he  said  to  the  crowd,  '  the  Lamb  of  God  which 
taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world ' ;  and  again  to  his 
disciples,  '  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God.' 

Did  St.  John,  we  wonder,  speak  of  Jesus  as  God's 
Lamb  because  He  came  in  such  a  meek  and  gentle  guise, 
and  seemed  so  pure  and  spotless  ?  Perhaps  so ;  but  I 
think  there  was  a  deeper  meaning  still  in  his  words.  He 
was  not  only  thinking  and  speaking  of  Jesus'  lovely 
character,  but  of  the  wonderful  work  He  had  come  to 
do ;  his  thoughts  had  begun  to  turn  to  the  great  Sacrifice 


90  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

which  was  soon  to  be  offered  up  on  the  Altar  of  the 
Cross. 

Perhaps  as  he  spoke  his  eye  may  have  rested  on  a 
drove  of  lambs  being  led  along  to  the  Temple  to  be 
offered  up  at  the  morning  and  evening  sacrifice,  or  at  the 
Passover  feast  which  was  then  coming  on  ;  and  the  words 
of  the  old  prophet  Isaiah  would  flash  across  his  mind, 
'  He  is  brought  as  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter,  and  as  a  sheep 
before  her  shearers  is  dumb,  so  He  openeth  not  His 
mouth.  .  .  .  Surely  He  hath  borne  our  griefs  and  carried 
our  sorrows.  .  .  .  And  the  Lord  hath  laid  on  Him  the 
iniquity  of  us  all.'  St.  John  knew  that  the  Temple 
sacrifices  could  never  take  away  sin.  The  only  sacri- 
fice that  could  really  do  this  was  the  sacrifice  of  God's 
Son ;  the  sacrifice  to  which  the  world  had  been  looking 
forward  all  down  the  ages,  and  of  which  all  other 
sacrifices  were  only  the  dim  and  misty  shadows.  God 
had  shown  him  this  great  truth,  and  now  that  Jesus  had 
come,  and  the  voice  from  Heaven  had  pointed  Him  out 
as  the  Son  of  God,  St.  John  knew  that  the  offering  up 
of  the  Sacrifice  was  at  hand.  Jesus,  he  felt  sure,  was  the 
true  Lamb  of  God  whose  death  should  do  what  the  sacri- 
fice of  all  the  lambs  in  the  world  could  never  do.  He 
had  come  to  take  away  the  burden  of  man's  sin ;  He  had 
come  to  reconcile  the  world  to  God. 

The  words  St.  John  spoke  made  a  great  impression 
on  the  minds  of  his  two  disciples.  They  felt  they  would 
like  to  know  more  about  this  wonderful  Stranger,  whom 
their  master  had  thus  pointed  out  to  them  as  the  world's 
Sin-bearer ;  and  so  as  He  moved  away  they  followed 
Him.  Jesus  saw  them  following  and  invited  them  to  His 
liome.  It  was  a  little  booth,  no  doubt,  that  home  of 
His  ;  hardly  large  enough  to  hold  three  people.  It  stood 
perhaps  among  the  willow-trees  and  rose-red  oleanders 


THE  FIRST  DISCIPLES  91 

that  fringed  the  river's  bank,  within  sound  of  the  rushing 
water ;  and  His  own  hands  had  driven  in  the  stakes,  and 
twined  the  green  boughs  to  make  its  walls,  and  stretched 
the  striped  awning  over  it  which  served  it  for  a  roof. 

There  the  two  disciples  remained  with  Jesus  for  the 
rest  of  the  afternoon,  while  He  spoke  His  wonderful 
words  to  them  about  Himself,  and  answered  the  eager 
questions  they  put  to  Him.  How  quickly  those  after- 
noon hours  must  have  passed  by  !  What  happiness  it 
must  have  been  simply  to  gaze  upon  Jesus'  face  and  hear 
Him  speak.  The  disciples  of  St.  John  felt  henceforth 
there  could  be  only  one  possible  Master  for  them.  Their 
hearts  went  out  to  Jesus  as  they  had  never  gone  out  to 
any  earthly  teacher  before. 

You  would  like  to  know  the  names  of  these  two 
disciples  who  thus  left  St.  John  to  become  the  first 
followers  of  Jesus.  The  elder  of  the  two  was  called 
Andrew.  He  was  a  fisherman  from  Galilee — like  most 
fishermen,  we  may  suppose,  brave,  keen-eyed,  and  strong 
of  arm.  The  other  of  more  slender  build,  with  sweet  and 
earnest  face,  was  John.  He  was  afterwards  Jesus' 
favourite  apostle,  and  bears  in  the  Gospel  the  beautiful 
name  of  '  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved.' 

St.  Andrew  had  a  brother  called  Simon,  who  was  also 
a  fisherman,  and  had  doubtless,  like  himself,  travelled 
down  from  Galilee  to  hear  the  preaching  of  St.  John,  and 
had  become  one  of  the  disciples  of  the  Baptist.  No 
sooner  had  St.  Andrew  satisfied  himself  that  Jesus  was 
indeed  the  Christ,  than  he  at  once  set  out  to  find  Simon 
and  bring  him  to  Jesus.  That  was  always  St.  Andrew's 
way,  as  we  shall  see  later  on.  He  had  the  true  mis- 
sionary spirit ;  he  always  seems  to  have  been  on  the  look- 
out to  bring  some  one  to  Jesus. 

It  was  sunset  when  St.  Andrew  left  the  little  booth 


92  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

by  the  waterside  to  look  for  his  brother,  and  when  he 
liad  found  him  he  brought  him,  eager-eyed  and  excited, 
into  Jesus'  presence. 

Jesus  looked  at  Simon  very  earnestly.  He  was  only 
a  common  fisherman  like  St.  Andrew,  but  there  was 
sometliing  very  frank  and  honest  and  likeable  about  his 
rugged,  weather-beaten  face,  and  Jesus  could  see  a  heart 
of  gold  beating  beneath  his  rough  fisherman's  garb. 

'You  are  Simon,'  He  said,  'the  son  of  Jona  (or  the 
Dove).     You  shall  be  called  Peter,  the  Rock.' 

We  often  read  in  the  Bible  of  a  man's  name  being 
changed  in  token  of  a  change  that  has  taken  place,  or  is 
about  to  take  place,  in  his  character  or  fortune.  Perhaps 
Jesus  gave  Simon  the  name  of  Rock,  because  He  foresaw 
what  a  grand  rock-like  character  he  would  hammer  out 
for  himself  in  the  end,  and  what  a  true  devoted  friend, 
'  except  for  one  sad  instant,'  he  would  prove.  Or  per- 
haps it  was  because  He  liad  already  marked  him  out  as 
one  of  the  great  foundation-stones  of  His  Church. 

At  any  rate,  by  giving  him  the  new  name,  Jesus 
showed  Simon  that  there  was  a  place  awaiting  him  in 
His  service,  and  that  He  had  a  work  for  him  to  do,  and 
Simon  at  once  came  over  to  Jesus'  side.  The  next  day 
Jesus  added  another  disciple  to  the  three  who  had  already 
joined  Him.  This  was  a  young  man,  named  Philip,  who 
was  perhaps  a  friend  of  Andrew  and  Peter,  or  may  at  any 
rate  have  been  an  acquaintance,  as  he  came  from  the 
same  place  as  they  did — Bethsaida,  '  the  house  of  fish,'  a 
little  fishing  village  on  the  shore  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee. 

With  these  four  disciples  as  His  followers,  Jesus  now 
went  back  to  Galilee.  He  did  not  return  to  Nazareth, 
but  went  to  stay  at  a  little  village  a  few  miles  off, 
called  Cana. 

St.  Pliilip  had  a  friend  at  Cana,  and  no  sooner  had 


THE  FIRST  DISCIPI.es  03 

they  arrived  at  tlieir  journey's  end,  than  he  went  to  look 
for  him  in  order  to  tell  him  the  glad  news  that  the  Saviour 
had  come.  *  We  have  found  Him,'  he  cries  eagerly,  '  of 
whom  Moses  in  the  law,  and  the  prophets,  did  write, 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  Son  of  Joseph.'  Now  this  friend, 
whose  name  was  Nathanael,  did  not  believe  his  friend 
Philip  at  first ;  the  news  seemed  too  good  to  be  true. 
What,  the  Christ  come  from  a  common  little  village  like 
Nazareth  !     He  could  not  believe  it. 

Philip  did  the  best  thing  to  persuade  Nathanael  that 
it  was  really  as  he  said.  He  did  not  argue;  he  just 
said,  'Come  and  see.'  He  knew  that  if  his  friend  only 
looked  on  Jesus'  face  and  heard  Him  speak,  he  would  not 
be  able  to  help  believing.  And  so  Nathanael  came. 
And  when  Jesus  saw  him  coming.  He  looked  on  him 
with  the  same  kindly,  searching  look  He  had  bent  upon 
Simon  Peter,  and  said,  'Behold  an  Israelite  indeed,  in 
whom  is  no  guile  ! '  In  other  words,  '  Behold  a  true  son 
of  Jacob;  a  man  honest  and  straightforward,  and  free 
from  all  shadow  of  deceit  and  double-dealing.' 

Nathanael  was  surprised  to  hear  Jesus  speak  about 
him  as  if  He  knew  him,  when,  as  he  thought.  He  had 
never  even  seen  him  before.  '  Whence  knowest  Thou 
me  ? '  he  asks  ;  and  Jesus  tells  him. 

It  was  the  custom  among  the  Jews  to  go  out  into 
their  gardens  in  the  early  morning  to  read  and  pray  and 
meditate  beneath  the  shade  of  some  spreading  fig-tree. 
Nathanael  had  been  doing  this  that  very  morning.  Per- 
haps as  he  sat  beneath  the  fig-tree  shade  he  had  been 
thinking  sadly  of  the  Saviour  who  seemed  so  long  in 
coming,  and  had  been  lifting  his  heart  in  earnest  prayer 
to  God  to  hasten  the  time  of  the  great  appearing,  and 
to  grant  that,  before  he  died,  he  might  see  the  vision  of 
Christ's  face.     And  now  Jesus  recalls  all  this  to  his  mind 


94  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

by  saying, '  Before  that  Philip  called  thee,  when  thou  wast 
under  the  fig-tree,  1  saw  thee ' ;  and  something  in  His 
look  tells  Nathanael  that  Jesus'  eye  had  been  resting 
upon  him  at  a  time  Avhen  he  had  thought  himself  quite 
alone,  and  that  at  that  very  moment  it  was  reading  the 
inmost  secrets  of  his  heart. 

*  Rabbi ' — '  Teacher,'  he  bursts  out,  *  Thou  art  the  Son 
of  God,  Thou  art  the  King  of  Israel.'  And  then  Jesus 
rewards  his  faith  by  making  him  a  promise.  He  tells  him 
that  hereafter  he  should  see  the  Heavens  opened,  and  the 
angels  of  God  ascending  and  descending  upon  the  Son  of 
INIan.  Would  Nathanael  understand  these  words  ?  Not 
at  first,  I  suppose  ;  but  he  would  afterwards. 

Do  you  remember  the  wonderful  vision  that  Jacob 
saw,  when,  footsore  and  weary,  a  wanderer  and  a  fugitive 
from  his  father's  home,  he  lay  down  to  sleep  at  Bethel 
beneath  the  open  sky  ?  It  was  the  vision  of  a  shining 
ladder  whose  top  reached  to  Heaven,  and  up  and  down 
whose  golden  rounds  the  white-robed  angels  came  and 
went. 

'That  ladder,'  Jesus  seems  to  say,  'was  a  type  or 
shadow  of  Myself.  I  am  the  true  Golden  Ladder,  let 
down  by  the  hand  of  God,  to  span  the  dark  gulf  that  has 
opened  out,  through  man's  sin,  between  Heaven  and  earth. 
Just  as  Jacob  saw  Heaven  opened,  so  you  shall  see  it 
opened,  to  let  in  those  I  shall  redeem  by  My  death. 
.Just  as  upon  the  dream-ladder  he  saw  the  angels,  so  you 
by  faith  shall  see  them  too.  You  shall  see  angels  going 
up  to  Heaven  through  Me,  "the  Way,"  bearing  man's 
prayers  to  God ;  you  shall  see  them  coming  down  to 
earth  again  through  Me  "the  Way,"  carrying  God's 
answering  gifts  of  pardon,  healing,  and  of  grace.' 

Nathanael's  name  does  not  occur  any  more  in  the 
Gospel  story,  unless,  as  some  have  thought,  he  is  men- 


THE  JMARRIAGE  FEAST  OF  CANA        1)5 

tioned  later  under  tlie  name  of  Bartholomew.  If  so,  it 
would  seem  that  he  became  one  of  the  twelve  apostles, 
and  spent  his  life  in  the  service  of  the  King. 

Soon  after  there  was  a  wedding  in  the  little  village  of 
Cana,  and  Jesus  and  His  disciples  were  among  the  invited 
guests.  Who  the  bride  and  bridegroom  were  we  are  not 
told ;  but  they  were  friends  of  Jesus'  mother,  and  JNIary 
had  come  from  Nazareth  to  be  present  at  the  marriage, 
and  to  help  to  get  things  ready  for  the  wedding  feast. 

A  Jewish  marriage  was  always  made  the  occasion  of 
great  rejoicings.  On  the  day  of  the  wedding,  towards 
evening,  the  bridegroom  and  his  friends,  in  their  best  and 
gayest  robes,  set  out  for  the  house  of  the  bride,  in  order 
to  escort  her  to  her  new  home.  They  would  find  her 
waiting  to  receive  them,  dressed  in  white,  and  bedecked 
with  all  her  fairest  jewels.  Flowers  were  twined  in  her 
long  flowing  hair ;  on  her  head  she  wore  her  bridal  crown 
of  gilded  myrtle  leaves  ;  while  a  long  thin  veil  concealed 
her  face  and  fell  almost  to  her  feet. 

A  procession  having  been  formed,  the  bride,  accom- 
panied by  her  maidens  and  her  other  friends,  set  off  for 
the  bridegroom's  house.  Before  them  went  the  musicians 
singing  and  playing  upon  their  flutes  and  drums ;  bright 
lamps,  slung  upon  poles,  were  carried  by  some  of  the  girls ; 
others  bore  garlands  in  their  hands  or  waved  green  boughs 
of  myrtle. 

The  bridegroom's  house  presented,  as  a  rule,  a  splendid 
appearance.  It  was  lighted  up  with  candles  ;  rich  carpets 
covered  the  seats,  and  the  tables  were  spread  with  all 
manner  of  tempting  things  to  eat  and  drink,  and  decorated 
with  lovely  flowers. 

The  first  event  to  take  place  was  the  marriage  cere- 
mony itself.  The  holiday-makers  would  not  forget  that 
marriage  was  a  holy  and  a  sacred  thing,  and  a  hush  would 


96  THE  CHILD  S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

fall  upon  the  merry,  laughing  throng,  as  the  bride  and 
bridegroom  stood  side  by  side,  and  made  their  promise  to 
be  faithful  and  true  to  one  another  as  long  as  life  should 
last;  just  as  young  man  and  maiden  do  to-day  in  the 
service  of  the  Church.  Then  perhaps  a  prayer  would  be 
offered  up,  and  after  God's  blessing  had  been  asked  on 
the  newly-wedded  pair,  the  feasting  and  merry-making 
would  begin. 

Sometimes  the  wedding  feast  lasted  for  one  day, 
sometimes  for  two,  often  for  as  many  as  seven,  according 
to  the  rank  and  wealth  of  the  bridegroom ;  but  as  long  as 
the  food  and  wine  lasted,  the  guests  were  made  heartily 
welcome,  and  were  pressed  to  eat  and  drink  and  to  enjoy 
themselves  to  the  utmost. 

It  was  to  a  marriage  ceremony  of  this  kind  that  Jesus 
was  invited.  We  might  have  thought,  perhaps,  that  He 
would  not  have  cared  to  come  when  music  and  feasting 
were  going  on.  But  Jesus  was  never  One  to  frown  on 
innocent  pleasure  or  enjoyment.  He  was  always  glad 
to  see  people  happy.  There  is  an  old  legend  which  says 
that  Jesus  was  never  seen  to  smile,  but  I  think  He  must 
have  often  smiled,  especially  when  the  little  children 
came  running  to  Him  to  walk  by  His  side,  as  they  would 
often  do,  or  gathered  at  His  feet  as  He  sat  and  taught 
among  the  Syrian  lilies.  No,  I  like  that  other  legend 
better  which  tells  us  that  when  He  lived  at  Nazareth  it 
was  a  common  thing  for  people  to  say  when  things  looked 
dark,  and  they  were  vexed  and  weighed  down  by  any 
trouble  or  anxiety,  '  Come,  let  us  go  and  look  on  Mary's 
Son ' ;  as  though  the  mere  sight  of  Jesus'  face,  so  calm 
and  peaceful  and  radiant,  had  power  to  chase  away  all 
gloomy  shadows  and  bring  back  hope  and  courage  to 
their  hearts. 

And   so  Jesus  did  not  shrink  from  the  gaiety  and 


THE  MARRIAGE  FEAST  OF  CANA        97 

brightness  of  the  marriage  feast  at  Cana.  He  came  to 
the  wedding,  and  adorned  and  beautified  it  with  His 
presence.  Nor  did  His  coming  bring  any  shade  of  gloom 
or  sadness  witli  it.  As  He  moved  among  the  wedding 
guests,  with  sweet  grave  smile,  now  saying  a  kindly  word 
to  one  and  now  to  another,  every  one  would  feel  glad 
to  have  Him  there.  It  would  be  the  happiest  and  most 
joyous  feast  that  Cana  had  ever  known. 

But  now  something  happened  which  seemed  likely  to 
break  up  the  party  altogether.  The  feasting  was  at  its 
height,  when  suddenly  the  wine  failed ;  it  ran  short,  and 
there  was  no  more  to  offer  to  the  guests.  The  news  must 
have  come  as  a  severe  shock  to  the  bridegroom ;  for  to 
invite  one's  friends  to  a  wedding  feast  and  not  give  them 
enough  to  eat  and  drink  was  considered  among  the  Jews 
to  be  a  great  disgrace.     What  was  to  be  done  ? 

Mary,  feeling  for  the  distress  of  her  friends,  made  her 
way  quickly  to  where  Jesus  was,  and  told  Him  what  had 
happened.  Perhaps  she  hardly  knew  why  she  went  to 
Him,  unless  it  was  because  she  felt  that  He  was  the  best 
person  to  go  to  in  any  trouble  or  difficulty,  and  that  He 
would  know  better  than  any  one  else  what  to  do.  Per- 
haps she  may  have  hoped  that  He  would  work  some 
miracle ;  for  though  He  had  never  worked  a  miracle 
before,  she  felt  He  had  the  power  to  do  so  whenever  He 
willed;  for  was  He  not  God's  Son,  and  were  not  the 
holy  angels,  that  had  crowded  around  His  cradle,  His 
messengers  ? 

Jesus,  however,  gently  puts  her  on  one  side.  He  tells 
her — not  angrily  or  impatiently,  but  quite  simply  and 
kindly — that  she  must  not  come  between  Him  and  the 
work  His  Heavenly  Father  had  given  Him  to  do ;  and 
that  the  time  for  Him  to  declare  His  power  had  not 
yet  come. 

6 


98  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Mary  knew  that  what  her  Son  said  was  true  ;  that  she 
had  no  longer  any  right  even  to  suggest  what  He  should 
do  or  refrain  from  doing ;  and  yet  she  felt  sure  somehow 
that  He  would  yet  find  some  way  of  helping ;  and  so, 
turning  to  the  servants,  who  stood  waiting  to  know 
what  was  to  be  done,  she  bids  them  do  whatever  Jesus 
should  command  them.  Now  in  the  courtyard  there 
were  standing  six  great  water-pots  of  stone.  They  had 
been  placed  there  that  the  guests  might  have  water 
to  wash  their  hands  and  feet  before  sitting  down  to 
supper. 

The  Jews  wore  sandals,  and  their  feet  needed  con- 
stantly to  be  cleansed  from  the  dirt  and  grime  of  the 
roadway;  and  they  were  always  most  particular  to  wash 
their  hands  before  eating. 

Jesus  spoke  to  the  servants  and  told  them  to  fill  the 
water-pots  with  water.  It  seemed  a  strange  command ; 
for  though  the  jars  were  empty  or  nearly  so,  more  water 
did  not  seem  needed  just  then.  But  the  servants  were 
good  servants  and  had  learned  to  obey  without  asking 
questions;  and  so  they  went  to  work  with  a  will,  and 
presently  the  great  stone  jars  were  brimming  to  the  lip 
with  fresh  cool  water. 

And  then  Jesus  ordered  them  to  draw  the  water  out 
into  smaller  vessels  and  carry  some  of  it  to  the  ruler  of 
the  feast,  who  was  a  guest  of  the  bridegroom  and  sat  at 
the  head  of  the  table.  And  again  the  servants  did  as 
they  were  bid,  though  they  must  have  wondered  still 
more  at  so  strange  an  order.  But  what  must  their 
wonder  have  been  like,  when  they  found  that  what  they 
poured  into  the  ruler's  cup  was  no  longer  water,  but 
sparkling  wine  ? 

The  miracle  that  Mary  had  hoped  for  had  come  to 
pass.    What  God  does  slowly  every  year  in  vines,  turning 


THE    MARRIAGE   AT   CAXA 


THE  MARRIAGE  FEAST  OF  CANA       99 

the  silver  rain  from  Heaven  into  the  juice  of  the  grape 
hy  slow  degrees,  Jesus  had  done  in  a  moment  of  time, 
only  without  the  use  of  any  means  to  bring  about  the 
change. 

And  so  there  was  no  lack  of  wine  after  all ;  and  the 
new  wine,  as  we  might  have  expected,  was  better  and  more 
delicious  than  the  old  ;  for  when  the  ruler  of  the  feast  had 
tasted  it,  he  called  the  bridegroom  and  told  him  he  had 
done  very  differently  from  most  givers  of  a  feast — instead 
of  offering  his  guests  the  best  wine  first  and  the  cheaper 
kind  afterwards,  he  had  kept  the  good  wine  until  last. 

The  miracle  of  Cana  was  the  beginning  of  Jesus' 
miracles,  and  by  working  it  He  'manifested  forth  His 
glory,'  as  St.  John  tells  us,  that  is  to  say,  He  showed  it 
openly  to  the  world.  The  glory  of  Jesus  was  the  glory 
which  belonged  to  Him  as  the  Son  of  God.  It  had 
always  been  His,  but  when  He  came  on  earth,  He  willed 
that  it  should  be  hidden  for  awhile.  Now  His  own  hand 
drew  the  veil  aside,  and  it  began  to  shine  forth,  just  as 
the  bright  light  of  a  lamp  streams  out  into  the  darkness 
when  the  casement  shutters  are  unbarred  ;  or  as  some 
lovely  jewel  flashes  forth  its  light  when  you  touch  a  spring 
and  the  lid  of  the  casket,  in  which  it  is  concealed,  flies 
open.  The  brightness  and  the  glory  in  both  cases  have 
been  there  all  the  while.  It  only  needed  a  hand  to  set 
them  free. 

There  had  been  other  miracles  worked  in  olden  days, 
quite  as  wonderful  as  this  at  Cana.  Moses  had  changed 
water  into  blood  to  punish  Pliaraoh  King  of  Egypt.  In 
Zareptah,  too,  a  city  of  Zidon,  by  the  hand  of  Elijah, 
a  poor  widow  woman's  barrel  of  meal  was  kept  from 
wasting,  and  her  cruse  of  oil  never  failed  all  through 
three  long  years  of  famine. 

But  there  was  no  glory  manifested  in  cases  like  these. 


100  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

beyond  the  glory  of  God.  And  the  reason  is  this,  that 
the  power  to  work  miracles  in  the  case  of  such  men  as 
JNIoses  and  Elijah  was  a  borrowed  one.  The  wonderful 
works  that  were  done  of  old  were  done  in  answer  to 
prayer.  It  was  not  the  prophet  who  worked  the  wonder, 
it  was  God  who  worked  it  through  liim. 

Jesus,  on  the  other  hand,  did  His  wonderful  works  by 
His  own  power.  He  was  God  as  well  as  man,  and  as  God 
He  was  not  only  all-loving,  but  all-powerful  too.  And 
so  we  find  Him  here  at  Cana  able  to  bend  the  powers  of 
nature  to  His  will,  to  give  happiness  to  a  wedding-party, 
just  as  afterwards  we  shall  see  He  was  able  to  conquer  all 
manner  of  diseases,  to  raise  the  dead  to  life,  and  even  to 
forgive  sins,  which  no  one  else  can  do  but  God. 

There  is  one  thing  which  I  should  like  you  to  remem- 
ber about  the  miracles  of  Jesus,  and  it  is  this ;  that  each 
one  was  a  kind  of  acted  parable ;  by  which  I  mean  that 
it  is  meant  to  carry  our  thoughts  beyond  the  actual  work 
of  blessing  and  healing  men's  bodies,  to  His  other  and 
higher  work  of  blessing  and  heahng  their  lives  and  souls. 

This  miracle  of  the  changing  of  water  into  wine,  for 
instance,  what  is  it  but  a  kind  of  parable  of  how  Jesus  is 
forever  changing  the  common  things  of  life  into  things 
rare  and  costly  and  beautiful  ? 

If  those  words  once  spoken  of  a  great  writer  and  poet 
were  true,  that  he  touched  nothing  without  adorning  it, 
how  much  more  true  they  are  of  Him,  the  Greatest  of  all 
poets.  All  that  He  touched  He  changed,  and  always  for 
the  better.  He  touched  our  poor  fallen  human  nature 
when  He  became  man,  and  raised  and  ennobled  it.  He 
touched  common  work  and  made  it  honourable.  He 
touched  the  hard,  rough  Cross  and  it  became  the  Tree 
of  Life. 

There   were  those  poor,   rough,    common   fishermen 


THE  MARRIAGE  FEAST  OF  CANA      101 

disciples  of  His;  He  called  them  to  His  side  and  made 
them  apostles  and  pillars  of  His  Church.  Weak  men 
and  women,  and  even  little  children,  were  turned  by  His 
power  into  the  noble  army  of  martyrs ;  the  prodigal  and 
the  sinner  brought  Him  the  wasted  muddy  water  of  their 
misspent  lives,  and  He  changed  it  into  the  good  wine  of 
new  and  heavenly  service. 

And  so  it  is  still  to-day.  The  mother  puts  her  little 
baby  into  Jesus'  loving  arms  at  baptism,  and  He  blesses 
it  and  gives  it  back  a  member  of  God's  great  Christian 
family,  the  Church,  and  His  own  dear  child.  He  takes 
our  sorrows  and  turns  them  into  joys.  He  makes  the 
trivial  round,  the  common  task,  '  a  road  to  bring  us  daily 
nearer  God.'  The  cross,  if  bravely  borne,  He  promises 
in  the  end  to  change  into  the  crown ;  our  poor  worn-out 
bodies  into  the  likeness  of  His  own  glorious  body. 

Let  us  take  then  this  thought  away  from  the  story  of 
Christ's  first  miracle.  I  may  have  only  common  things 
to  offer  to  Jesus ;  my  power  of  serving  Him  may  be 
small ;  my  life  may  seem  a  worthless,  sin-stained  thing. 
But  if  I  bring  Him  what  I  have,  if  I  give  Him  my  heart, 
I  can  trust  Him  to  turn  the  common  gift  into  something 
nobler  and  better  in  the  end. 

' "  Oh  that  I  were  a  cup,  a  golden  cup, 
Meet  for  the  Master's  use  !  " 


So  spoke  a  poor,  vile,  earthly  thing, 

A  worthless  castaway, 

The  Master  heard — and  when  He  passed  that  way. 

He  stopped  and  touched  it  with  His  wounded  hand. 

When  lo  !  its  baseness  vanished,  and  instead 

There  stood  a  golden  chalice,  wondrous  fair. 

And  overflowing  with  deep  love  for  Him. 

He  raised  it  to  His  gracious  lips,  and  quaffed 

"  The  wine  that  maketh  glad  the  heart  of  God  " '; 

Then  took  the  cujj  to  Heaven.' 


IV 


JESUS     HOME   AT    CAPERNAUM — THE    FIRST    CLEANSING     OF 

THE    TEMPLE THE    RULER    WHO    CAME    TO    JESUS     BY 

NIGHT — THE    WOMAN    AT    THE    WELL    OF   SYCHAR 

Jesus  did  not  go  back  to  Nazareth  after  leaving  Cana,  as 
we  might  perhaps  have  expected.  We  only  read  of  His 
once  revisiting  His  old  home  in  after  days,  and  then  the 
people  were  offended  at  His  teaching  and  tried  to  kill 
Him,  and  he  left  it  never  to  return. 

The  place  He  now  chose  as  His  dwelling-place  was  a 
little  town  on  the  western  shore  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee, 
called  Capernaum. 

It  lay  in  the  district  known  as  Gennesareth,  or 
the  '  Garden  Land ' ;  a  beautiful  strip  of  country  which 
bordered  on  the  seashore  and  which  was  the  garden 
of  Galilee,  just  as  Galilee  was  the  garden  of  Palestine. 
Nowhere  did  the  grass  grow  greener  or  the  cornfields 
blossom  into  brighter  gold  than  in  Gennesareth.  From 
a  background  of  blue  hills,  the  meadows  sloped  down  to 
the  water's  edge,  and  were  all  ablaze  in  spring-time  with 
the  lily  and  the  rose,  the  wild  hyacinth  and  yellow  crocus, 
and  many  other  lovely  flowers.  In  the  thickets  and  by 
the  roadsides  the  palm  and  date-tree  lifted  their  feathery 
crowns ;  the  orchards  of  Gennesareth  were  bright  with 
the  flowers  of  fruit  of  the  orange  and  pomegranate ;  its 
figs  and  grapes  were  considered  to  be  the  finest  in  the 
land. 


JESUS'  HOME  AT  CAPERNAUM  103 

Capernaum  was  a  very  busy,  prosperous  little  town, 
and  so  was  better  suited  to  be  the  scene  of  Jesus'  ministry 
than  quiet,  sheltered  Nazareth  would  have  been.  The 
^reat  Roman  road,  which  ran  from  the  '  Great  Sea '  to 
Damascus,  passed  through  it,  and  Jesus  standing  by  the 
roadside  must  often  have  seen  *  the  slow  caravans  trailing 
by  with  the  mystery  of  strange  far-off  places  clinging  to 
them — such  as  sea-beaten  ships  have  for  us,  as  they  come 
gliding  up  the  harbour.'  Its  streets,  unlike  those  of 
Nazareth,  were  gay  with  shops.  It  had  a  market-place, 
to  which  the  country  people  used  to  flock  on  market- 
days  with  their  baskets  of  fruit  and  vegetables,  and  where 
all  kinds  of  provisions  were  sold — barley,  meal,  and  wheat, 
bunches  of  raisins,  cakes  of  figs,  jars  of  olive  oil  and 
honey,  grape-juice  syrup,  and  many  other  things  for 
which  Gennesareth  was  famous. 

Being  close  to  the  sea,  a  great  trade  in  fish  was  carried 
on  at  Capernaum.  Its  houses  ran  down  to  the  beach, 
and  there  were  many  creeks  along  the  shore  which  gave 
good  anchorage  to  the  fishing-boats.  So  every  morning 
the  fishing-fleet  would  put  in  at  the  landing-stage,  and 
the  fish  in  great  silver  heaps  would  be  carried  on  shore  to 
be  dried  and  pickled,  and  packed  in  barrels  to  be  sent  to 
Jerusalem  and  elsewhere. 

As  it  was  only  a  small  town,  there  were  not  many  great 
houses  at  Capernaum.  There  was  one  beautiful  building, 
however,  of  white  marble.  This  was  the  synagogue, 
which  had  been  built  for  the  Jews  by  a  Roman  officer  who 
was  stationed  there,  and  whose  favourite  slave  Jesus 
afterwards  healed.  Capernaum  had  besides  a  custom- 
house where  dues  were  collected  on  goods  brought  across 
the  lake.  It  had  its  barracks,  too,  where  a  company  of 
Roman  soldiers  lodged. 

Such  was  the  place  that  .lesus  from  this  time  forward 


104  THE  CHILD  S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

began  to  look  upon  as  His  second  home,  and  which  was 
to  be  the  scene  of  so  many  of  His  wonderful  miracles. 

His  first  visit  to  Capernaum,  however,  was  only  a 
short  one.  It  was  the  'month  of  flowers,'  and  the 
pilgrims  were  preparing  to  go  up  to  Jerusalem  to  keep 
the  Passover,  and  so  when  the  Capernaum  caravan 
started  for  the  south,  Jesus  went  with  it. 

His  first  act  after  entering  Jerusalem  was  one  which 
startled  the  Jews  very  greatly.  When  describing  the 
Temple,  I  told  you  how  in  the  outer  court — the  Court  of 
the  Gentiles— stalls  and  pens  had  been  set  up  for  the 
oxen  and  sheep  used  for  the  sacrifices ;  and  how  the 
money-changers  had  begun  to  carry  on  their  business 
there.  To  explain  the  presence  of  the  money-changers, 
I  ought  to  say  that  every  Jew  at  Passover-time  was 
expected  to  pay  a  silver  coin  into  the  treasury,  called  the 
*  half  shekel,'  a  piece  of  money  worth  rather  more  than  a 
shilling. 

As  there  were  Jews  in  Jerusalem  from  all  parts  of  the 
world,  there  was  always  a  good  deal  of  foreign  money 
passing  from  hand  to  hand,  but  such  money  was  not 
allowed  to  be  offered  at  the  Temple  because  of  the 
heathen  symbols  engraved  upon  it,  and  the  heads  of  the 
false  gods  with  which  it  was  stamped.  And  so  the 
money-changers  used  to  hang  about  the  Temple  for  the 
purpose  of  changing  foreign  coins  for  Jewish  ones.  They 
did  this  not  out  of  good  nature,  but  because  it  paid. 
They  were  a  greedy,  grasping  crowd ;  their  one  thought 
was  to  get  the  better  of  their  customers,  and  whenever 
they  parted  with  a  piece  of  money  they  took  care  to  reap 
a  handsome  profit  by  the  exchange.  Filled  as  it  was 
with  a  noisy  crowd  of  buyers  and  sellers,  the  Court  of  the 
Gentiles  at  the  Passover  Festival  must  have  resembled  a 
market-place  or  Eastern  bazaar. 


THE  CLEANSING  OF  TFIE  TEMPLE     lor, 

Instead  of  the  silence  and  the  reverent  hush  wliicli 
mi<;htwell  have  been  expected  in  a  phice  set  apart  lor  the 
worsiiip  of  God,  the  ear  was  stunned  with  loud  talk,  the 
confused  bleating  of  sheep  and  lowing  of  oxen,  and  the 
chink  of  gold  and  silver. 

And  it  had  all  come  about  through  the  greed  of  the 
chief  priests  who  had  charge  of  the  Temple.  The 
merchants  and  money-changers  paid  them  rent,  and  the 
Temple  guardians  allowed  the  Temple  to  be  dishonoured 
because  it  helped  to  make  them  rich. 

Jesus  had  seen  this  buying  and  selling  going  on 
when  He  had  gone  up  to  Jerusalem  to  keep  His  first 
Passover,  and  no  doubt  it  had  sorely  grieved  and  dis- 
tressed Him  even  then.  Now  He  felt  the  time  had 
come  to  put  a  stop  to  it. 

We  can  fancy  how  His  anger  must  have  risen,  as, 
entering  the  Temple,  He  stood  and  gazed  on  the  scene 
before  Him  ;  the  noisy  crowd  bargaining  and  quarrelling  ; 
the  sheep  struggling  in  their  pens,  the  oxen  tugging  at 
the  ropes  that  bound  them  to  the  marble  pillars ;  the 
cages  full  of  doves  littering  the  pavement ;  worst  sight 
of  all,  the  money-changers  with  their  greedy,  crafty  faces, 
jingling  their  coins  and  inviting  the  passers-by  to  patronise 
their  stalls.  There  were  some  pieces  of  rope  lying  on  the 
ground  before  Him.  He  bent  down  and  twisted  them 
into  a  scourge,  and  with  eyes  blazing  with  anger  began  to 
drive  out  the  sheep  and  the  oxen,  and  all  the  evil  crowd 
loitering  in  attendance  upon  them.  Then,  with  one  sweep 
of  His  arm.  He  overthrew  the  tables  of  the  money-changers, 
so  that  all  their  little  piles  of  gold  and  silver  so  carefully 
arranged  were  scattered  far  and  wide  over  the  filthy  pave- 
ments. He  did  not  touch  the  cages  of  the  doves  for  fear 
of  hurting  the  innocent  creatures,  but  turning  to  the 
dove-sellers   He   bade  them  depart,  in  stern,  indignant 


106  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

tones.  *  Take  these  things  hence,'  He  said.  '  Make  not 
My  Father's  House  a  house  of  merchandise.' 

It  was  all  done  in  a  moment.  Nobody  resisted ;  no- 
body cried  '  stop.' 

There  was  such  a  lofty,  commanding  look  in  Jesus' 
eyes ;  there  was  something  so  noble  and  fearless  in  His 
bearing,  that  the  hearts  of  the  wrongdoers  were  filled 
with  fear.  They  might  have  made  a  stand,  for  they  were 
many,  and  He  was  only  one  ;  but  they  dared  not  do  it. 
They  knew  quite  well  that  Jesus  was  right  in  what  He 
had  done,  and  that  they  were  in  the  wrong.  And  so,  just 
as  wild  beasts  shrink  back  before  the  uplifted  arm  of  their 
tamer,  they  slunk  away  before  Jesus ;  while  the  people 
who  stood  by  wondered  and  were  amazed. 

The  only  persons  who  plucked  up  courage  to  question 
Jesus  as  to  what  He  had  done  in  the  Temple,  were  the 
priests.  Even  they  did  not  venture  to  accuse  Him  of 
acting  wrongfully,  although  in  their  hearts  they  must  have 
been  enraged  at  His  having  put  them  in  the  wrong,  by 
condemning  what  they  had  allowed. 

'  What  right,'  they  asked,  '  have  you  to  act  in  this 
way  ?  You  may  say  you  are  doing  God's  work.  Well, 
show  us  some  sign  or  miracle  that  you  have  been  sent 
by  God.'  And  Jesus  answers  in  these  strange  words  : 
*  Destroy  this  temple,  and  in  three  days  I  will  raise  it  up.' 

The  Jews  thought  He  was  speaking  of  the  Temple  in 
which  He  was  standing;  God's  beautiful  house  of  shining 
gold  and  marble  that  King  Herod  had  begun  to  rebuild 
and  beautify  forty-eight  years  before,  and  which  was  not 
finished  yet.  Was  He  a  madman  ?  What  could  He 
mean,  this  unknown  Stranger  from  Galilee,  by  saying 
that  He  was  able  to  build  up  again  in  three  days,  a 
temple  which  it  had  taken  thousands  of  skilled  workmen 
nearly  fifty  years  of  toil  to  raise  ? 


JESUS  AND  NICODEMUS  107 

But  Jesus  was  not  speaking  of  Herod's  temj)Ie.  The 
Jews  had  asked  for  a  sign  in  a  scornful,  contemptuous  way 
in  order  to  put  Him  in  the  wrong ;  and  so,  in  granting 
their  request  and  giving  them  a  sign,  He  gives  them  one 
which  they  would  not  understand.  It  was  of  a  Temple 
not  made  with  hands  of  which  He  was  speaking,  even  the 
Temple  of  His  sacred  body.  Their  wicked  hands  should 
nail  that  body  to  the  Cross,  and  it  should  be  destroyed  by 
death  ;  but  on  the  third  day  he  should  overcome  death 
and  His  body  should  be  raised  again  in  glory.  That  was 
a  sign  which  should  show  men  who  He  really  was,  and 
declare  His  right  to  act  in  whatever  way  He  pleased. 

While  at  Jerusalem  Jesus  worked  many  miracles,  so 
that  the  people  began  to  gather  round  Him  and  to  hail 
Him  as  the  Christ.  But  Jesus  knew  that  their  hearts 
were  not  really  ready  to  receive  Him.  He  knew  they 
were  looking  for  an  earthly  prince  ;  one  who  should  lead 
them  forth  to  battle  against  the  Roman  oppressor,  and 
restore  the  lost  glory  of  the  land.  He  had  not  come  to 
do  that ;  His  work  was  of  quite  a  different  kind,  and  so 
He  did  not  encourage  them  to  follow  Him,  for  He  knew 
they  would  only  be  disappointed  in  the  end.  There  was 
one,  however,  whom  He  gladly  welcomed  to  His  side. 
His  name  was  Nicodemus,  and  strangely  enough  he  was 
a  Pharisee.  I  say,  strangely  enough,  for  the  Pharisees,  as 
a  body,  from  first  to  last  were  very  unfriendly  to  Christ, 
and  some  of  the  strongest  words  in  the  Bible  are  uttered 
against  them. 

To  St.  John  the  Baptist  they  were  a  '  brood  of  vipers,' 
and  Jesus  Himself  speaks  of  them  as  '  hypocrites,'  '  bhnd 
guides,'  and  '  whited  sepulchres.' 

The  curious  thing  about  them  was  this.  To  all  out- 
ward appearance  they  were  particularly  good  and  holy 
men.     They  set  great  store  by  their  religion.     They  were 


108  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

very  particular  about  keeping  the  Law  of  Moses,  and  their 
phylacteries,  or  prayer-boxes,  were  larger,  their  prayers 
longer,  and  their  fasts  more  severe  than  those  of  the  other 
Jews.  But  what  spoilt  everything  was  the  fact  that, 
with  all  their  parade  of  piety,  they  were  not  really  sincere. 
Their  religion  was  too  often  a  cloak  for  a  selfish,  wicked 
life.  Their  long  prayers  and  fasting  and  broad  fringes  to 
their  garments  were  all  meant  to  reflect  glory  upon  them- 
selves. They  were,  as  Jesus  once  told  them,  like  a  cup 
polished  and  bright  on  the  outside,  but  inside  full  of  filth 
and  uncleanness. 

And  yet  even  among  the  Pharisees  there  were  some 
earnest  souls  who  were  not  satisfied  with  outside  shows 
and  shams,  and  who  sought  after  better  things.  Such  an 
one  Nicodemus  seems  to  have  been.  He  had  grown 
dissatisfied  with  the  form  of  the  religion  in  which  he  had 
been  brought  up,  and  longed  for  a  clearer  vision  of  God. 
Since  he  had  listened  to  Christ's  words  and  seen  His 
wonderful  miracles,  the  knowledge  had  come  to  him  that 
here  was  some  one  who  could  teach  him  a  better  way, 
some  one  whom  God  had  sent  to  help  poor  souls  in  dark- 
ness that  were  struggling  towards  the  light — 

'  Like  plants  in  mines  that  never  saw  the  sun, 
But  dream  of  him  and  guess  where  he  may  be, 
And  do  their  best  to  climb  and  get  to  him.' 

And  so  he  made  up  his  mind  to  go  to  Jesus  for  help 
and  guidance. 

He  held  a  high  position  among  the  Jews.  He  was  a 
'  master  in  Israel,'  a  member  of  the  great  council  called 
the  Sanhedrim  that  managed  the  affairs  of  the  nation ; 
and  yet  he  had  not  the  courage  to  go  openly. 

He  was  afraid  of  the  ridicule  of  his  friends ;  afraid 
perhaps  of  being   taunted — he,  the   great   Rabbi — with 


JESUS  AND  NICODEMUS  109 

being  a  disci})le  of  the  Carpenter  of  Nazareth ;  afraid  of 
losing  his  position  and  influence.  And  so  he  waited  until 
night  came,  and,  wrapping  himself  in  his  cloak,  stole  away 
in  secret,  to  seek  an  interview  with  the  '  teacher  come 
from  God.' 

Jesus,  we  may  be  sure,  would  have  preferred  him  to 
come  as  a  brave  man  should  have  come,  openly  and  by 
day.  But  He  was  never  One  to  expect  too  much  of  His 
disciples  at  once;  He  always  encouraged  their  weak 
beginnings  in  the  hope  of  a  better  ending  afterwards. 
And  so  He  received  Nicodemus  kindly,  and  showed  him 
the  better  way  he  had  come  to  seek,  and  explained  to  him 
how  he  might  enter  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  God  was 
about  to  set  up. 

Nicodemus  had  all  his  life  been  taught — and  in  turn 
had  taught  others — that  the  way  to  win  God's  favour  was 
to  do  tilings  ;  to  be  particular  about  his  prayers ;  to  be 
strict  in  his  observance  of  the  Sabbath  ;  to  perform  all  the 
outside  duties  of  religion  with  great  exactness.  Jesus 
told  him  that  something  more  was  needed  than  this.  It 
was  not  fasting  that  God  wanted,  it  was  change  of  heart ; 
it  was  not  long  praying,  it  was  the  heavenly  mind. 

These  things  were  the  gift  of  God's  Holy  Spirit,  and 
Nicodemus  would  have  to  seek  that  gift  and  seek  it  in 
God's  way.  He  would  have  to  begin  at  the  very  begin- 
ning ;  he  would  have  to  bow  his  proud  head  and  take  the 
lowest  place  in  God's  school ;  he  would  have  to  enter 
into  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  tln-ough  the  gate  of  baptism, 
and  be  boni  again  like  a  little  child. 

We  can  imagine  how  amazed  Nicodemus  must  have 
been  to  hear  all  this.  But  Jesus  tells  him  not  to  be  sur- 
prised. The  new  birth  was  very  mysterious  and  could 
not  be  explained,  but  it  was  real.  It  was  like  the  wind — 
at   that   very   time   perhaps   moaning   round  the  upper 


110  THE  CHILD'S  LH^^E  OF  JESUS 

chamber  where  they  were  sitting.  No  one  could  track 
the  wind's  path  ;  it  came  and  w^ent  just  as  it  pleased,  and 
yet  what  power  it  had,  and  what  a  real  thing  it  was.  So 
with  the  work  of  God's  Holy  Spirit  in  the  heart.  No  one 
could  say  how  the  Spirit  came  and  how  It  went.  Only 
one  thing  could  be  said,  that  It  was  real.  It  had  power 
to  give  life  and  holiness,  as  Nicodemus  himself  should 
find  one  day. 

And  then,  having  spoken  of  the  work  of  God's  Holy 
Spirit,  Jesus  goes  on  to  tell  Nicodemus  something  of  His 
own  wonderful  work ;  how  He  had  come  into  the  world 
to  save  the  w^orld  by  His  death.  He  reminds  him  of  what 
happened  when  the  children  of  Israel  had  been  bitten  by 
fiery  serpents  in  tlie  wilderness;  how  Moses  had  made  a 
great  serpent  of  brass  and  put  it  upon  a  pole,  and  how 
whoever  looked  at  the  serpent,  lived.  The  brazen  serpent, 
like  the  golden  ladder,  was  a  type  of  Himself.  Man  had 
been  bitten  by  the  fiery  serpent  of  sin,  and  M^as  slowly 
dying ;  but  God  had  provided  a  way  by  which  he  might 
escape  death.  The  time  was  coming  when  Jesus  should 
be  crucified,  and  then  dying  man  should  be  saved  by 
looking,  with  penitence  and  faith,  to  the  Cross,  just  as  the 
dying  Israelite  was  saved  by  lifting  his  eyes  to  the  serpent 
on  the  pole.  '  For  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  He  gave 
His  only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  Him 
should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.' 

Nicodemus  left  Jesus'  presence  to  think  and  ponder 
over  His  words.  He  never  forgot  them.  He  did  not 
come  over  to  Jesus'  side  at  once,  but  he  did  so  in  the  end. 
We  find  him  standing  up  for  his  INIaster  afterwards  when 
He  was  attacked  by  the  chief  priests  and  Pharisees,  and 
asking  that  He  should  not  be  condemned  unheard.  When 
Jesus  died,  he  stood  firm  wdiere  other  men  had  failed. 
He  came  boldly  forward  to  confess  Christ  and  to  float 


THE  WOMAN  OF  SAMAUIxV  ill 

His  colours,  wlien  it  seemed  as  if  there  was  notliing  to  be 
gained  by  doing  it.  And  so  his  weak  beginning  had  a 
good  ending  after  all.  Starting  as  a  faint-hearted 
straggler  at  first,  by  the  grace  of  God's  Holy  Spirit  he 
became  at  last  a  good  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  fought 
manfully,  we  may  believe,  under  Christ  s  banner  unto  liis 
life's  end. 

When  the  Passover  was  over,  Jesus  with  His  disciples 
left  Jerusalem  and  went  alone,  preaching  and  teaching  in 
the  country  districts  of  Judaea.  After  a  time,  finding  that 
the  success  He  met  with  aroused  the  anger  and  jealousy 
of  the  Pharisees,  and  not  wishing  to  be  hindered,  at  the 
very  beginning  of  His  work,  by  their  plots  against  Him, 
He  made  up  His  mind  to  go  quietly  back  to  Galilee. 

There  were  three  roads  open  to  Him  ;  one  across  the 
plain  of  Sharon,  another  along  the  valley  of  the  river 
Jordan,  and  the  third  through  Samaria.  Of  these  three 
roads  He  chose  the  last,  because,  in  His  love  and  pity.  He 
wanted  to  do  good  to  the  despised  Samaritans  whom 
everybody  hated,  and  for  whom  nobody  had  a  kindly  word. 

The  history  of  these  Samaritans  was  a  very  curious  one. 

After  the  ten  tribes  had  been  carried  away  captive, 
the  King  of  Assyria  sent  a  number  of  people  from  the 
Assyrian  cities  to  colonise  the  land.  The  new  settlers 
were  heathen,  but  in  course  of  time  they  forsook  their 
idols,  and  learned  the  worship  of  the  One  True  God  from 
the  few  Israelites  who  had  been  left  behind,  and  with 
whom  they  became  mingled.  When  the  Jews  came  back 
from  Babylon,  and  set  about  rebuilding  the  Temple 
Nebuchadnezzar  had  destroyed,  the  Samaritans,  as  this 
new  race  came  to  be  called,  were  anxious  to  help  them. 

The  Jews,  however,  despising  them  because  they  had 
once  been  heathen,  refused  their  help,  and  would  not 
allow   them    to   touch    a    stone   of  the   buildinsf.      This 


112  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

offended  and  hurt  tlie  Samaritans  very  greatly,  and  from 
that  time  forward  there  was  the  bitterest  enmity  between 
the  two  people,  and  they  took  every  opportunity  of  show- 
ing their  hatred  and  illwill  towards  one  another. 

Shut  out  of  the  Temple,  the  Samaritans  built  a 
temple  of  their  own  on  one  of  their  mountains,  called 
Gerizim,  which  they  declared  to  be  even  more 
holy  than  the  Temple  at  Jerusalem.  This  made  the 
Jews  more  angry  than  ever.  AVhen  they  were  strong 
enough  they  invaded  Samaria  and  conquered  it,  and 
razed  the  temple  to  the  ground.  In  Jesus'  day  there 
was  still  great  bitterness  between  the  two  nations.  The 
Jews  insulted  the  Samaritans  and  called  them  heathen, 
and  cursed  them  openly  in  their  synagogues.  The 
Samaritans  in  their  turn  annoyed  the  Jews  in  every 
possible  way. 

To  let  their  countrymen  in  Babylon  know  the  exact 
time  when  the  Passover  Feast  began,  the  Jews  used  to 
build  beacon-fires  which  flashed  from  hill  to  hill,  till  the 
news  was  carried  from  the  Mount  of  Olives  to  the  far-off 
banks  of  the  river  Euphrates.  At  such  times  the  Samari- 
tans would  build  fires  on  their  own  hills,  only  on  wrong 
days,  so  as  to  lead  the  watchers  astray.  They  would  not 
allow  pilgrims  from  Galilee,  passing  through  Samaria  to 
Jerusalem,  to  lodge  in  their  villages.  They  would  even 
at  times  attack  and  ill-treat  them.  But  though  the  Jews 
might  hate  the  very  name  of  Samaria,  Jesus  had  no 
bitter  feeling  in  His  heart  towards  its  people.  Samaritan 
and  Jew  alike,  in  His  eyes,  were  children  of  the  One  All- 
Father,  whose  love  and  pity,  like  the  blue  circle  of  the 
sky,  embraced  all  the  world.  Instead  of  avoiding 
Samaria,  as  so  many  of  the  Jews  used  to  do,  '  He  must 
needs '  go  through  it,  St.  Jolm  tells  us.  That  is  to  say. 
He  felt  drawn  to  go  because  He  knew  there  were  sad  and 


THE  WOMAN  OF  SAMARIA  113 

hungry  souls  waiting  for  Him  there,  and  He  wanted  to 
help  them  as  He  longed  to  help  and  succour  all.  Leav- 
ing Judcea  early  in  the  morning,  He  travelled  through 
Samaria,  until  at  noonday  He  reached  a  city  of  Samaria, 
called  Sychar.  It  was  the  ancient  Shechem  of  the  Old 
Testament,  and  many  pleasant  and  holy  memories  clus- 
tered around  it.  In  the  oak-forest  of  Moreh  hard  by, 
Abraham  had  pitched  his  tent  and  built  an  altar  to  the 
Most  High  God,  who  had  appeared  to  him  there  in  a 
vision.  There,  too,  Jacob  had  tarried  on  his  way  home 
after  his  fourteen  years'  service  with  his  uncle  I^aban ; 
and  there  he  had  dug  a  deep  well  through  the  limestone 
rock,  which  still  exists  to  this  day.  It  was  at  Shechem 
that  the  body  of  Joseph,  in  its  painted  mummy  case,  was 
buried,  after  having  been  carried  forty  years  through  the 
wilderness.  It  was  at  Shechem,  upon  the  green  slopes 
of  Mounts  Ebal  and  Gerizim,  that  Joshua  gathered  the 
twelve  tribes  together,  and  the  Levites  recited  the 
blessings  and  cursings  of  the  law,  to  which  the  people 
responded  with  loud  '  Amen.' 

Wearied  and  thirsty  after  his  long  morning  walk, 
Jesus  was  glad  to  make  His  way  to  where  the  city  well 
lay.  Like  most  Eastern  wells,  it  was  a  fair,  grassy  spot 
shaded  with  trees,  and  had  a  little  alcove  or  recess  with  a 
stone  seat,  where  the  tired  traveller  might  take  his  rest  for 
awhile  and  be  thankful,  ere  he  rose  up  to  continue  his 
journey.  There  He  sat  waiting  patiently  for  some  one 
whom  He  knew  was  coming.  By  and  by  the  person  He  was 
expecting  drew  near.  It  was  a  woman.  She  had  come 
to  draw  water  from  the  well,  and  on  her  head  she  carried 
an  earthen  pitcher,  and  held  a  coil  of  rope  in  her  hand. 
Jesus  watched  her  let  down  her  pitcher  into  the  well,  in 
silence,  and  then  as  she  drew  it  up  He  said,  '  Give  Me  to 
drink.' 


114  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Water  in  the  East  is  always  gladly  given  to  the  thirsty. 
It  is  God's  good  gift  to  the  very  poorest  of  His  children, 
to  be  freely  shared  by  all  who  need  it ;  and  this  Stranger 
who  asked  for  water,  how  travel-stained  He  was,  and  how 
tired  He  looked  !  And  yet  the  woman  hesitated.  He 
was  a  Jew ;  she  could  tell  that  by  the  sound  of  His  voice 
and  the  white  and  blue  tassels  on  His  cloak.  '  How 
is  it  that  Thou,  being  a  Jew,  askest  drink  of  me,  which 
am  a  woman  of  Samaria  ? '  is  her  wondering  question. 
And  Jesus  in  reply  tells  her  that  if  she  only  knew  who 
He  was,  and  the  gift  it  was  in  His  power  to  bestow,  she 
would  have  asked  of  Him,  and  He  would  have  given  her 
living  water. 

It  was  the  living  water  of  God's  Holy  Spirit  He 
meant,  the  Water  of  Life  drawn  from  the  well  of 
Heaven  ;  only  the  woman  did  not  understand  this.  She 
thought  He  was  speaking  of  the  living,  running  water  of 
some  earthly  spring  or  well,  such  as  that  which  sparkled 
in  the  water-jar  at  her  feet ;  and  it  puzzled  her  to  know 
how  He  could  draw  water  with  no  pitcher  or  rope  to  help 
Him. 

And  then  Jesus  went  on  to  explain.  The  earthly 
water  of  which  she  was  thinking  quenched  the  thirst  for 
awhile,  but  people  soon  became  thirsty  again.  Those 
who  drank  of  the  living  water  that  He  gave  should  never 
thirst  any  more ;  the  water  should  be  in  their  hearts  like 
a  well,  always  springing  up,  ever  satisfying,  giving  Eternal 
Life. 

On  hearing  this,  the  woman  eagerly  asked  Jesus  to 
give  her  some  of  this  wonderful  water,  that  she  might 
never  feel  thirst  again,  or  be  obliged  to  come  to  the  well 
any  more.  Jesus  saw  that  she  did  not  yet  understand 
His  meaning,  and  Avithout  trying  to  ex])lain  it  further 
He  spoke  to  her  tenderly  but  plainly  about   the  sinful 


THE  WOMAN  OF  SAMARIA  115 

life  slie  was  leading,  and  showed  her  that  He  knew  all  its 
guilty  secrets.  He  did  this  because  He  wanted  her  to 
see  herself  as  she  really  was,  and  to  repent ;  for  He  knew 
that  to  be  sorry  for  one's  sin  is  always  the  first  step 
towards  better  things,  and  that  it  is  only  by  the  road  of 
repentance  that  the  well  of  the  Water  of  iAfe  can  ever  be 
reached.  Surprised  and  ashamed,  the  woman  said,  '  Sir,' 
or  '  My  Lord,  I  perceive  that  Thou  art  a  prophet'  And 
then  the  thought  flashed  across  her  mind,  '  If  this 
Stranger  is  indeed  a  great  and  mighty  prophet,  as  His 
knowledge  of  my  life  seems  to  prove  that  He  is.  He  will 
be  able  to  settle  the  question  which  has  so  long  caused 
strife  between  the  Samaritans  and  the  Jews.'  And  so  she 
asked  Him  which  was  the  right  place  to  worship  God,  on 
INIount  Gerizim  or  at  Jerusalem. 

Jesus  answered  that  the  hour  was  coming,  when  God 
should  be  worshipped  neither  at  Gerizim  nor  at  Jerusalem 
alone,  but  in  His  Holy  Church  throughout  all  the  world. 
God  is  Spirit — that  was  the  answer  to  her  question  about 
temples  and  sacred  places.  As  Spirit  His  presence  fills 
every  place.  It  was  not  of  so  much  importance  where 
worship  was  offered  to  Him  ;  the  important  question  was, 
how  was  it  offered  ;  it  was  not  the  temple  that  mattered, 
it  was  the  heart  that  worshipped  within  the  temple. 

The  truths  Jesus  taught  were  so  wonderful,  so 
different  from  any  truths  she  had  ever  been  taught  before, 
that  the  woman  was  amazed.  She  could  not  help  think- 
ing to  herself  that  the  Christ  when  He  came  would  speak 
just  such  words  as  these.  *  1  know  that  Messias  cometh, 
which  is  called  Christ,'  she  timidly  said;  'when  He  is 
come,  He  will  tell  us  all  things.'  Jesus  answered,  '  I 
that  speak  unto  thee  am  He.' 

Jesus'  disci})les  had  gone  into  the  city  to  buy  food 
while  He  was  resting  by  the  well,  and  now  they  came  back, 


116  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

and  were  much  surprised  at  finding  their  Master  talking 
to  a  woman.  To  talk  to  any  woman  in  public  was  one 
of  the  six  things  which  it  was  thought  unseemly  for  a 
Rabbi  or  teacher  to  do ;  and  here  was  Jesus  not  only 
talking  to  a  woman,  but  to  one  who  was  a  Samaritan  as 
well.  But  He  was  their  Master,  and  they  had  too  much 
reverence  for  Him  to  ask  Him  the  reason  for  what  He 
did. 

At  their  approach,  the  woman,  with  Christ's  words,  '  I 
that  speak  unto  thee  am  He,'  ringing  in  her  ears,  and  mak- 
ing music  in  her  heart,  hurried  off  to  the  city  to  spread 
the  joyful  news.  She  did  not  remember  to  take  her 
water-pot.  She  had  caught  a  glimpse  at  last  of  the  living 
water  in  God's  well,  and  thirsted  no  more  for  the  water  of 
earth.  '  Come,  see  a  man,'  are  her  eager  words, '  which  told 
me  all  things  that  ever  I  did.      Is  not  this  the  Christ  ? ' 

It  was  with  her,  just  as  with  the  crowd  afterwards,  who 
cried  when  they  saw  Jesus  do  one  wonderful  work,  '  He 
hath  done  all  things  well ! '  She  felt  that  her  whole  life  had 
been  laid  bare  before  Him  ;  and  that  His  steadfast  loving 
look  had  read  it  all,  as  one  reads  the  pages  of  a  book. 

JNIeanwhile  the  food  the  disciples  had  brought  Jesus 
lay  all  untasted  before  Him,  and  when  they  anxiously 
press  Him  to  take  some  of  it,  He  tells  them  He  has 
already  eaten.  His  hunger  and  thirst  had  been  quite 
forgotten.  The  Good  Shepherd  could  only  think  of  the 
poor  lost  sheep  that  He  had  put  out  His  hand  that  day 
to  save.  To  do  God's  will,  that  was  His  real  food,  to 
finish  His  work  in  saving  the  world  His  true  meat  and 
drink.  Pointing  to  the  cornfields  wiiich  stretched  all 
around  them,  and  whose  dark  furrows  the  springing  wheat 
was  just  beginning  to  colour  with  its  tender  green,  Jesus 
begins  to  speak  about  the  coming  Harvest ;  only  it  is  not 
the  harvest  of  the  corn,  but  the  Harvest  of  human  souls, 


THE  WOMAN  OF  SAMARIA  117 

of  which  He  is  thinking.  The  earthly  harvest  was  still 
four  months  off,  the  Heavenly  Harvest  was  already  ripe. 
He  had  been  sowing  the  seed  of  Eternal  JAfe  that  day  in 
a  woman's  heart,  and  it  had  already  sprung  up  and  was 
bearing  fruit.  He  had  seed  to  sow  in  the  hearts  of  the 
great  crowd  already  beginning  to  stream  towards  Him 
from  the  city  gates.  That,  too,  should  spring  up  and  bear 
fruit  just  in  the  same  way.  The  work  He  had  begun 
to  do,  they.  His  disciples,  must  carry  on  afterwards. 
He  had  begun,  they  must  finish ;  He  had  sown,  they 
should  reap  ;  and  doing  the  work  of  the  faithful  reaper, 
they  should  receive  their  reward.  Theirs  should  be  the 
joy  which  comes  from  saving  souls ;  theirs  should  be  the 
gathered  sheaves  themselves  laid  at  the  Master's  feet,  in 
the  great  day  of  Harvest,  when  the  Sower  and  reaper 
should  rejoice  together.  That  was  a  joyful  day  for  the 
little  town  of  Sychar  when  Jesus  entered  its  walls,  and 
began  to  teach  its  people  the  way  of  life.  No  one  had 
thought  them  worth  helping  before,  but  Jesus  thought 
them  worth  it,  and  for  two  days  He  remained  among 
them  ;  two  happy  days,  in  which  the  sick  were  healed,  the 
sorrowful  comforted,  and  the  weary  and  heavy-laden  found 
rest.  And  some,  we  are  told,  believed  on  Him  because 
of  the  story  the  woman  told,  but  many  more  because  of 
His  own  word.  '  We  have  heard  Him  ourselves,'  they 
said,  'and  know  that  this  is  indeed  the  Christ,  the  Saviour 
of  the  world. ' 


HOW  JESUS  HEALED  THE  NOBLEMAN  S  SON — THE  RE- 
JECTION AT  NAZARETH — THE  MIRACULOUS  DRAUGHT 
OF   FISHES 

As  Jesus  entered  Galilee  from  Samaria  the  people  flocked 
around  Him,  eager  to  gaze  upon  His  face  and  listen  to 
His  teaching.  For  He  was  no  longer  the  unknown 
Carpenter  of  Nazareth.  His  fame  had  begun  to  spread  ; 
the  wonderful  works  He  had  done  at  Jerusalem  had 
gone  before  Him,  and  the  people  were  proud  to  think 
that  so  great  a  prophet  had  arisen  out  of  their  own 
country. 

It  was  to  little  Cana  among  the  hills  that  He  made 
His  way  at  first.  It  was  here,  you  remember,  that 
Nathanael  lived,  and  it  was  perhaps  at  his  house,  sur- 
rounded by  its  pleasant  garden,  that  Jesus  sought  rest 
and  shelter  for  awhile. 

While  at  Cana  Jesus  worked  another  of  His  wonder- 
ful miracles  of  healing.  There  was  living  at  Capernaum  a 
great  nobleman,  a  courtier,  it  is  thought,  of  King  Herod 
Antipas,  ruler  of  Galilee.  He  was  rich  and  had  a  fine 
house  and  many  friends.  He  had  a  wife  and  children 
too,  perhaps ;  at  any  rate  we  know  he  had  one  little  boy 
whom  he  dearly  loved.  But  one  day  trouble,  which 
sooner  or  later  enters  into  every  home,  knocks  at  his 
door.  His  little  lad  is  taken  ill  of  a  raging  fever. 
The  doctors  are  called  in,  but  though  they  do  their  best. 


THE  NOBLEMAN'S  SON  119 

he  rapidly  grows  worse.  Presently  tlie  whisper  goes 
round  that  there  is  no  hope.  No  hope !  Can  we  not 
imagine  the  father's  grief  when  he  hears  these  words  ? 
He  is  in  despair.  Suddenly,  however,  tlie  new^s  comes 
to  his  ears  that  Jesus,  the  great  physician,  whose  name  is 
on  everybody's  lips,  has  come  back  to  Cana,  where  He 
had  made  the  water  wine.  '  There  then  is  still  a  chance 
for  my  boy,'  the  father  thinks,  and  he  makes  up  his  mind 
to  go  to  Cana  to  ask  Jesus'  help. 

Capernaum  was  some  twenty-five  miles  from  Cana, 
and  it  was  a  rough  and  uphill  journey  that  lay  before 
the  nobleman,  but  we  do  not  mind  rough  journeys  when 
the  life  of  one  we  love  is  at  stake.  Starting  early 
in  the  morning,  he  reaches  Cana  by  the  middle  of  the 
day,  and,  finding  Jesus,  entreats  Him  to  come  back 
with  him  to  Capernaum  without  delay,  and  heal  his 
dying  child. 

Perhaps  there  was  the  thought  in  his  heart,  '  If  Jesus 
will  only  do  this  I  will  believe  in  Him  with  all  my 
heart  and  become  His  disciple';  and  it  was  perhaps  in 
answer  to  this  thought  that  Jesus  sadly  turns  to  him,  and 
to  the  eager  crowd  that  had  begun  to  gather  around,  and 
tells  them  that  nobody  seems  able  to  believe  on  Him 
without  seeing  some  w^onder  or  miracle  performed  by 
Him. 

Could  it  be  that  He  was  going  to  refuse  His  help  ? 
At  the  bare  idea  the  father's  heart  cries  out  in  an  agony, 
'Lord,  come  down  ere  my  child  die.'  And  Jesus,  moved 
with  compassion  at  the  sight  of  so  much  sorrow  and 
distress,  makes  haste  to  answer  his  prayer.  Only  He 
answers  it  in  a  very  unexpected  w^ay.  He  does  not  come 
down  to  Capernaum— there  was  no  need  for  that.  He 
works  the  miracle  that  is  asked  of  Him  in  the  place 
where  He  is. 


120  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

AVith  the  light  of  a  great  pity  shining  in  His  eyes, 
He  bids  the  poor  anxious  father  take  comfort.  '  Go 
thy  way,'  He  says  ;  '  thy  son  liveth.' 

And  the  nobleman  believed  His  word.  His  faith  in 
Jesus  had  already  begun  to  grow.  He  felt  sure — he 
hardly  knew  why — that  Jesus  was  not  deceiving  him, 
and  that  His  heahng  power  had  really  reached  his  child, 
as  he  tossed  on  his  sickbed  so  many  miles  away. 

And  so,  instead  of  starting  for  his  home  at  once,  he 
remained  at  Cana  until  the  next  day.  Then,  as  he  descends 
the  rocky  mountain  road  that  leads  to  Capernaum,  he 
meets  his  servants  hastening  towards  him  with  the  glad 
news  that  his  little  son  is  alive  and  well.  And  when  he 
asks  them  when  the  change  had  come,  they  tell  him  that 
the  fever  had  suddenly  disappeared  at  one  o'clock  the 
day  before — exactly  at  the  very  time  .Jesus  had  spoken 
the  words,  '  Go  thy  way;  thy  son  liveth.' 

And  now  the  father's  faith  in  Jesus,  which  had  already 
grown  strong,  becomes  stronger  still.  It  changes  his 
whole  life.  From  being  a  royal  officer  in  the  service  of 
an  earthly  king,  he  becomes  a  soldier  in  the  train  of  the 
King  of  kings. 

More  than  this,  he  becomes  a  missionary  for  Jesus  in 
his  own  home.  He  tells  his  little  lad  the  story  of  the 
Compassionate  Saviour,  who  was  so  sorry  for  him  when 
He  heard  that  he  was  ill,  that  He  sent  His  angel  to  touch 
him  and  make  him  well  and  strong  again  ;  he  tells  it  to 
his  wife ;  he  tells  it  to  his  servants.  And  the  belief  that 
Jesus  is  the  Christ  begins  to  grow  in  all  their  hearts,  till 
they  too  become  His  disciples.  And  it  was  through  the 
sickness  of  a  little  child  that  it  had  all  been  brought 
about!  God  had  sent  sorrow  to  the  nobleman's  house, 
and  sorrow  had  led  to  Jesus.  That  is  what  sorrow  so 
often  does.     It  is   God's  angel,  and  He  sends  it  to  turn 


THE  REJECTION  AT  NAZARETH        121 

men's  hearts  to  Himself,  when  perhaps,  but  for  its  loving 
ministry,  they  would  never  turn. 

'  God  never  would  send  you  the  darkness 

If  He  felt  you  could  bear  the  light ; 
But  you  would  not  cling  to  His  guiding  hand 

If  the  way  were  always  bright ; 
And  you  would  not  care  to  walk  by  faith, 

Could  you  always  walk  by  sight. 

*  'Tis  true  He  has  many  an  anguish 

For  your  sorrowful  heart  to  bear. 
And  many  a  cruel  thorn-crown 

For  your  tired  head  to  wear  ; 
He  knows  how  few  would  reach  Heaven  at  all 

If  pain  did  not  guide  them  there.' 

And  now  Jesus  went  back  once  more  to  His  old 
home  at  Nazareth.  JSIuch  had  happened  since  the  day 
He  left  the  little  white  town  among  the  hills  where  He 
had  been  brought  up.  He  had  gone  out  a  simple  village 
carpenter,  unnoticed  and  unknown  ;  He  had  come  back  a 
famous  Rabbi  and  a  mighty  worker  of  miracles,  one  to 
be  treated  with  all  reverence  and  respect. 

It  was  the  Sabbath  day  soon  after  He  arrived,  and  in 
the  early  morning  He  joined  the  throng  of  worshippers 
as  they  hastened  along  the  well-worn,  well-remembered 
path  that  led  to  the  village  synagogue. 

Let  us  see  what  the  Nazareth  synagogue  was  like.  It 
would  stand  perhaps  in  the  main  street — a  little  flat- 
roofed  building  made  of  stone,  with  perhaps  a  carving- 
over  the  door  representing  a  seven-branched  candlestick, 
or  a  bunch  of  grapes,  or  the  pot  of  manna,  with  Aaron's  rod 
that  budded.  On  the  inside,  a  number  of  rows  of  pillars 
would  divide  it  into  aisles,  the  seats  for  the  men  being 
on  the  floor,  and  a  gallery  being  provided  for  the  women. 

At  the  end,  looking  towards  Jerusalem,  would  be  a 
raised  platform  with  a  painted  chest  upon  it  known  as 


122  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

the  Holy  Ark.  Here  were  kept  the  great  parchment  rolls, 
in  their  embroidered  linen  covers,  containing  the  sacred 
Scriptures.  There  would  be  a  curtain  of  coloured  silk  in 
front  of  the  ark,  with  a  lamp  burning  brightly  before  it. 
Near  the  ark,  and  facing  the  people,  would  be  the  '  front 
seats,'  where  the  ruler  of  the  synagogue  sat  with  the 
elders  and  the  more  important  of  the  people.  Lower 
down  would  come  a  sort  of  reading-desk  or  pulpit,  from 
which  the  lessons  were  read  and  the  sermon  preached. 

The  synagogue  service  used  to  begin  with  prayer, 
after  which  the  Jewish  creed  was  recited.  Then  came 
another  prayer,  followed  by  a  number  of  thanksgivings  to 
God,  called  '  benedictions ' ;  and  then  with  great  ceremony 
the  ark  was  uncovered,  and  first  a  lesson  from  the  law 
and  then  one  from  the  prophets,  was  read.  Afterwards 
a  sermon  from  the  reader  brought  the  service  to  a  close. 

It  was  the  ruler  of  the  synagogue's  place  to  choose  the 
reader  and  preacher,  and  he  usually  chose  some  learned 
Rabbi,  or  Pharisee,  or  other  person  of  note.  On  this  par- 
ticular Sunday,  Jesus  was  chosen,  because  He  had  become 
a  person  of  consequence  in  the  eyes  of  the  people,  and 
they  were  all  anxious  to  hear  Him  preach. 

He  took  the  roll  which  was  handed  to  Him,  and,  open- 
ing it  at  the  61st  chapter  of  the  Book  of  Isaiah,  He  read 
those  beautiful  verses  in  which  the  prophet  describes  the 
Christ  whom  God  was  going  to  send,  and  the  wonderful 
work  He  should  do.  He  then  gave  the  roll  back  into 
the  verger's  hands  and  sat  down. 

Meanwhile  the  eyes  of  all  in  the  synagogue  were 
fastened  on  Him,  and  every  one  waited  in  breathless 
silence  to  hear  what  He  was  going  to  say.  Then  He 
began  to  speak,  and  His  first  words  must  have  sent  a 
thrill  through  every  heart — 'This  day  is  this  Scripture 
fulfilled   in    your    ears.'      What    did    the  words   mean? 


THE  REJECTION  AT  NAZAKETH        123 

Why,  that  the  Christ  had  actually  come  !  He  was  sitting 
there  before  them,  and  Jesus,  whom  they  had  all  known 
from  a  little  boy,  was  He.  AVas  not  that  a  wonderful 
thing  ?  And  yet  that  was  the  claim  He  was  making. 
Listen  I  God,  He  was  saying,  had  anointed  Him  with 
His  Holy  Spirit,  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  the  poor ;  He 
had  sent  Him  to  heal  the  broken-hearted  ;  to  preach 
deliverance  to  the  captives,  and  recovering  of  sight  to 
the  blind,  to  set  at  liberty  those  that  were  bruised,  to 
preach  the  welcome  time  of  the  coming  of  the  Lord. 

So  Jesus  spoke,  and  as  they  listened  to  His  words, 
the  people  wondered  more  and  more.  They  had  heard 
many  sermons  in  the  little  synagogue,  but  never  one  like 
this.  Jesus'  voice  had  such  a  tender,  loving  ring.  His 
words  were  so  gracious  and  so  wonderful,  they  felt  as 
though  they  could  never  tire  of  listening  to  Him. 

But  when  He  had  finished  and  they  had  begun  to 
think  over  what  He  had  said  and  to  talk  it  over  among 
themselv^es,  doubts  began  to  arise  in  their  minds.  After 
all,  how  unlikely  it  seemed  that  Jesus  should  really  be 
the  Christ.  Why,  they  had  known  Him  from  the  time 
when  JNIary  used  to  carry  Him  about  in  her  arms.  They 
had  seen  Him  as  a  little  boy  playing  in  the  Nazareth 
streets,  and  gathering  flowers  in  the  fields.  They  had 
watched  him  grow  up.  They  knew  (as  they  thought) 
His  whole  history.  Besides,  was  He  not  a  carpenter  by 
trade  ?  He  had  not  even  been  trained  up  as  a  scholar,  or 
received  a  commission  to  teach.  And  the  saying  of  an 
old  writer  would  rise  up  in  the  minds  of  some  of  them  : — 

'  The  wisdom  of  a  learned  man  cometh  by  opportunity 
of  leisure.  How  can  he  get  wisdom  who  holdeth  the 
plough  and  whose  talk  is  of  bullocks  ?  So  every  carpen- 
ter and  taskmaster  who  laboureth  night  and  day  ;  the 
smith    also   sitting   by  the   anvil.      So  doth  the  potter 


124  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

turning  the  wheel  about  with  his  feet.  All  trust  in  their 
hands,  and  every  one  is  wise  in  his  work.  They  shall 
not  be  sought  for  in  public  counsel,  nor  sit  high  in  the 
congregation.  They  shall  not  be  found  where  parables 
are  spoken.' 

Jesus  read  their  thoughts.  He  understood  the 
meaning  of  the  murmurs  that  began  to  arise.  They 
wanted  Him  to  give  them  a  sign,  to  work  some  miracle 
to  prove  that  He  had  been  really  sent  by  God  and  was 
indeed  the  Christ.  He  had  worked  miracles  in  other 
places ;  well,  let  Him  work  a  miracle  here  in  His  own 
city  and  they  would  believe  on  Him.  But  Jesus  would 
not  work  a  miracle.  It  was  never  His  way  to  force  people 
to  believe  on  Him.  Signs  were  for  people  who  had  faith, 
not  for  those  who  doubted  and  disbelieved. 

He  might  have  known.  He  tells  them  sadly,  that  they 
would  not  accept  Him  or  His  teaching,  for  a  prophet  is 
never  highly  thought  of  in  his  own  country.  Had  He 
been  a  stranger,  perhaps  they  would  have  listened  to 
Him.  And  then  He  goes  on  to  warn  them  of  the 
danger  they  were  in  of  losing  the  blessing  God  had  sent 
Him  to  bring  them.  It  did  not  follow  that  they  had  a 
claim  on  these  blessings  because  they  were  Jews.  God's 
blessings  were  only  for  those  deserving  of  them.  Israel's 
greatest  prophets,  Elijah  and  Elisha,  had  worked  their 
most  wonderful  miracles  for  the  benefit  of  strangers. 
There  were  many  widows  in  Israel  at  the  time  of  the 
great  famine  in  Ahab's  reign,  but  Elijah  only  helped 
a  foreigner,  a  woman  of  Zidon  ;  there  were  many  lepers 
in  the  days  of  Elisha's  ministry,  but  he  liealed  none  save 
Naaman,  the  captain  of  the  host  of  Syria. 

As  Jesus  spoke  these  words,  a  great  wave  of  anger 
swept  over  the  crowded  synagogue.  AVhat,  should  the 
despised  and  hated  Gentiles  be  indeed  preferred  before 


THE  REJECTION  AT  NAZARETH        125 

them — was  that  His  meaning  ?  Were  they,  the  children 
of  Abraham  and  the  chosen  people  of  God,  in  danger  of 
being  elbowed  out  of  Cxod's  favour  by  tlie  heathen  ?  In 
a  moment  the  whole  place  is  in  an  uproar.  A  rush  is 
made  towards  the  platform  where  Jesus  sits.  He  is 
seized,  borne  out  of  tlie  synagogue,  and  luu'ried  away  to 
the  brow  of  the  hill  upon  which  the  city  stands,  a  great 
white  cliff — they  show  it  to  you  to-day — from  which  tliey 
try  in  their  fury  to  cast  Him  down  to  destroy  Him. 

Eut  the  hour  for  Jesus'  death  had  not  yet  come.  No 
one  had  power  to  take  away  His  life,  until  He  willed  to 
lay  it  down  of  Himself,  and  so  the  people  of  Nazareth 
could  not  hurt  Him.  '  Passing  through  the  midst  of 
them,'  says  St.  lAike,  '  He  went  His  way.' 

It  may  be  that  He  made  Himself  invisible,  and  so 
escaped  the  vengeance  of  these  angry,  violent  men.  It 
may  be  that  He  awed  them  by  turning  the  same  look  of 
kingly  majesty  upon  them  that  He  afterwards  turned 
upon  the  armed  men  in  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane,  when 
'they  went  backward,  and  fell  to  the  ground.'  In  any 
case  He  was  never  in  any  real  danger  of  His  life.  He  was 
safe  as  Daniel  was  safe  in  the  den  of  lions,  or  the  three 
children  in  the  burning,  fiery  furnace.  Angel  forms  ringed 
Him  round — angel  hands  shielded  Him  from  harm. 

Sadly  and  in  sorrow  must  Jesus  have  turned  away 
from  Nazareth.  He  loved  the  little  flower  city  among 
the  hills ;  its  fields,  its  woods,  its  little  narrow  streets,  its 
people  all  alike  were  dear  to  Him.  Nearly  His  whole 
life  had  been  spent  there  ;  and  when  the  time  had  come 
for  Him  to  declare  Himself  openly  to  the  world.  He  had 
chosen  Nazareth  out  of  all  the  towns  in  Galilee  as  the 
place  to  declare  Himself.  And  Nazareth  had  turned 
against  Him.    His  old  friends  had  tried  to  kill  Him. 

How  the  thought  must  have  hurt.   We  feel  the  wounds 


126  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

dealt  by  a  friend,  more  than  those  given  by  an  enemy. 
So  Jesus  would  feel  His  rejection  at  Nazareth  all  the 
more  keenly,  because  it  was  '  His  own  city  where  He  had 
been  brought  up.' 

And  so,  driven  away  from  Nazareth,  He  went  back 
again  to  Capernaum.  There  He  began  to  gather  a  little 
band  of  disciples  around  Him,  to  help  Him  in  carrying 
out  the  great  work  He  had  come  to  do,  of  setting  up 
God's  kingdom  on  earth,  and  teaching  men  the  way  of 
holiness  and  peace.  The  four  disciples  He  first  called, 
were  the  four  who  had  already  been  chosen  by  Him ;  but 
the  time  had  not  yet  arrived  for  them  to  leave  all  and 
follow  Him,  and  they  had  gone  back  again  to  their  work. 
Now  they  were  to  leave  their  work  and  take  up  the  higher, 
grander  service,  never  to  lay  it  down  again  till  death. 

It  was  at  the  seaside  that  the  call  came  and  their 
choice  was  made.  The  Sea  of  Galilee  was  more  of  a  lake 
perhaps  than  a  sea.  It  was  about  twelve  miles  long  and 
six  miles  broad,  and  lay  in  a  deep  hollow  surrounded  by  a 
circle  of  hills,  '  like  an  opal  set  in  emeralds.'  But,  though 
small,  it  was  one  of  the  loveliest  of  inland  lakes.  The 
Jews  used  to  say  that  God  had  spread  the  waters  of  seven 
seas  in  their  land,  but  that  the  Sea  of  Galilee  was  dear  to 
Him  above  all  the  rest.  Its  waters  were  full  of  fish  ; 
many  kinds  of  beautiful  wild  birds  darted  over  its  sur- 
face, and  its  shores  were  embosomed  in  trees,  and  bright 
with  the  red  and  white  blossoms  of  the  oleander. 

In  Jesus'  day,  too,  the  lake  was  crowded  with  all  kinds 
of  shipping.  The  Roman  war-vessel,  its  decks  aglitter 
with  rows  of  men  in  armour,  ploughed  its  waves  ;  the 
great  galleys  of  Herod  spread  their  purple  sails  before  the 
breeze  that  blew  across  it  from  the  mountains ;  at  night 
its  waters  twinkled  with  the  light  of  innumerable  fishing- 
boats,  as  the  sky  twinkles  with  its  stars. 


THK   CAM,   OK   THK    FISHKRMEN 


THE  DRAUGHT  OF  FISHES  127 

Overlooking  the  sea  were  other  cities  besides  Caper- 
naum. There  was  Chorazin,  the  '  woody  ])lace  ' ;  Beth- 
saida,  the  '  house  of  fisliing ' ;  Tiberias,  the  pleasure  city  of 
King  Herod,  with  its  splendid  marble  palace  and  race- 
course; and  Gadara,  where  Jesus  afterwards  healed  one 
possessed  with  a  devil.  All  these  towns,  once  so  prosper- 
ous, have  now  disappeared.  The  grass  waves  over  the 
once  busy  streets  of  Capernaum,  where  Jesus  so  often 
walked.  Few,  if  any,  of  the  familiar  sights  upon  which 
He  looked  are  to  be  seen  to-day.  Only  the  blue  sky  and 
the  hills  and  the  changing  sea — His  sea — remains. 

*  Clear  silver  water  in  a  cup  of  gold. 
Under  the  sunlit  steeps  of  Gadara, 
It  shines — His  lake — the  Sea  of  Chinnereth  ; 
The  waves  He  loved,  the  waves  that  kissed  His  feet. 
So  many  blessed  days.      O  happy  waves  ' 
O  little,  silver,  happy  sea,  far  famed. 
Under  the  sunlit  steeps  of  Gadara.' 

Jesus  was  walking  by  '  silver  Galilee '  when  He  caught 
sight  of  His  old  friends,  Simon  and  Andrew,  and  at  a 
little  distance  from  them,  James  and  John.  They  had 
come  in  from  their  fishing,  and  their  boats,  with  their 
brown  sails  furled,  lay  anchored  close  to  the  shore. 

It  had  been  a  wild,  stormy  night,  and  as  they  had 
passed  to  and  fro  upon  the  waves,  they  had  cast  their 
nets  and  cast  them  again,  but  had  not  caught  a  single 
fish.  Now  they  were  busy  on  the  beach,  washing  the 
sand  and  sea-weed  out  of  their  nets  and  mending  the 
broken  meshes. 

Seeing  Simon  and  Andrew,  Jesus  made  His  way 
towards  them.  He  was  being  followed  by  an  eager  crowd, 
who  pressed  upon  Him  to  hear  His  wonderful  words ;  for 
now  that  His  fame  had  begun  to  spread  abroad,  many 
were  anxious  to  see  and  hear  Him  and  ask  His  help. 


128  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Entering  one  of  the  boats  which  belonged  to  Simon, 
Jesus  asked  him  to  push  out  a  little  from  the  land,  that 
He  might  be  able  the  better  to  speak  to  the  people. 
Then  sitting  down,  He  taught  them  from  the  boat.  His 
voice  travelHng  along  the  water,  and  bringing  to  the 
weary  multitude  the  message  of  comfort  and  of  hope  for 
which  they  longed. 

And  now,  the  sermon  to  the  people  ended,  Jesus  pre- 
pares to  teach  a  lesson  to  His  disciples ;  a  lesson  about 
the  work  which  lay  before  them,  and  the  new  life  to 
which  they  were  now  to  be  called.  Turning  to  Simon 
Peter,  He  bids  him  hoist  anchor  and  make  for  the  open 
sea,  for  there  is  fishing  to  be  done.  What  a  strange 
command  it  must  have  seemed !  Night  was  the  proper 
time  for  casting  the  net,  and  the  night  had  gone  and  the 
sun  had  long  been  up  ;  besides,  the  fishermen  had  already 
cast  the  net,  and  cast  it  all  in  vain.  The  deep  and  shaded 
caves  where  the  fish  were  wont  to  gather  had  been 
thoroughly  searched  by  them,  and  not  a  fish  had  been 
snared ;  how  unlikely  they  should  fare  better  now. 

'  Master,'  says  Simon  Peter  sadly,  'we  have  toiled  all  the 
night,  and  have  taken  nothing — toiled  till  we  were  weary 
and  exhausted,'  so  the  Greek  word  he  uses  means ;  '  and 
yet ...  at  Thy  word  1  will  let  down  the  net.'  What  good 
the  letting  down  of  the  net  would  do  he  did  not  know  ;  but 
he  had  fjiith  in  Jesus.  He  knew  there  must  be  some  good 
reason  for  the  command  the  Master  had  given,  and  that, 
if  he  had  patience,  he  should  know  what  that  reason  was. 

He  did  not  have  long  to  wait.  No  sooner  is  the  net 
let  down  into  the  clear  water  than  it  encloses  a  shoal  of 
fish  so  great,  that  the  meshes  of  the  net  are  hardly  strong 
enough  to  bear  the  weight  thrown  upon  them.  Finding 
the  net  giving  way,  the  fishermen  make  signals  to  James 
and  John,  their  partners  ;  and  presently  their  boat  comes 


THE  DRAUGHT  OF  FISHES  129 

flying  across  the  water.  Soon,  with  the  aid  of  the  strong 
arms  of  the  fishermen  and  the  hired  servants,  the  catch  is 
Hfted  into  the  boats.  Higher  and  higher  grows  the 
shining  pile  of  fish  between  the  decks,  until  the  boats 
are  so  full  that  they  begin  to  dip  deep  down  into  the 
water. 

And  then  Simon  Peter  does  a  strange,  unexpected 
thing.  So  full  of  wonder  was  he  at  what  had  happened, 
tliat  his  heart  seemed  almost  too  full  for  words.  Flinging 
himself  at  Jesus'  feet,  in  husky,  broken  tones  he  cries, 
'  Depart  from  me ;  for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  O  Lord.'  He 
felt  that  Jesus,  whose  eye  had  so  easily  pierced  the  crystal 
depth  of  the  sea,  could  read  every  secret  of  his  poor, 
shallow,  muddy  heart,  and  he  felt  unworthy  to  be  near 
Him.  Jesus  was  so  great,  so  wonderful,  and  so  good ; 
and  he  was  so  sinful,  so  weak,  and  so  faithless.  Ah  !  but 
there  was  repentance  in  poor  Peter's  heart  as  well  as 
sin  and  weakness ;  there  was  longing  for  better  things ; 
there  was  desire  to  be  on  the  side  of  God.  And  Jesus, 
whose  '  kind  but  searching  glance '  had  indeed  read  Peter's 
heart,  saw  the  sorrow  and  the  longing,  and  did  not  take 
him  at  his  word.  Instead,  we  seem  to  see  Him  stretch- 
ing out  His  loving  hand  to  raise  Peter  up  and  draw  him 
still  closer  to  His  side. 

*Fear  not,'  He  says,  *from  henceforth  thou  shalt 
catch  men.' 

It  was  as  though  He  said, '  You  shall  be  My  fisherman 
henceforth,  O  Peter.  I  will  send  you  fortli  to  cast  your 
net  upon  the  wide  waters  of  the  world,  and  you  shall 
draw  men's  hearts  up  to  God,  as  the  fisher  draws  his  fish 
up  from  the  depths  of  the  sea.' 

Yes,  that  was  to  be  St.  Peter's  work  henceforth — that 
was  to  be  the  work  of  all  Christ's  fishermen  disciples. 
They  were  to  leave  their  fisliing  to  '  take  men  alive ' ; 


130  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

they  were  to  help  to  win  the  world  for  Jesus.  And  so, 
we  read,  when  they  reached  land,  they  forsook  all,  and 
followed  Him. 

How  often  in  after  years  the  memory  of  that  morning 
spent  upon  the  waters  would  come  back  to  the  disciples ; 
and  what  a  message  of  comfort  and  of  hope  it  would 
bring  them  as  they  went  about  their  work. 

The  sad  feehng,  that  sooner  or  later  comes  to  all  who 
work  for  God,  would  no  doubt  often  come  to  them.  It 
would  seem  at  times  as  if  their  labour  had  been  all  in 
vain.  '  We  have  toiled  all  the  night ' — cannot  we  fancy 
we  hear  the  sorrowful  words  again  repeated  ? — '  and  have 
taken  nothing.  There  is  nothing  to  show  for  our  work  ; 
the  world  seems  as  far  from  accepting  Christ  as  ever.' 

And  then  the  vision  of  Jesus,  as  He  stood  that  day  in 
Simon's  fishing-boat,  would  start  up  before  their  eyes. 
They  would  remember  how  He  had  filled  their  nets  at  a 
time  when  things  looked  at  their  very  worst,  and  they  would 
take  courage.  After  all  they  had  nothing  to  do  with 
results.  Their  work  was  just  to  go  on  letting  down  the 
net.  They  must  preach,  and  teach,  and  baptize,  and  leave 
the  rest  to  Him.  And  so  they  did ;  and  we  know  in  the 
end  how  wonderfully  God  filled  their  nets,  and  what  a 
great  Harvest  of  the  world's  sea  they  gathered  in  for 
Christ. 

Dear  child,  the  lesson  that  Jesus  taught  His  disciples 
by  the  miraculous  draught  of  fishes  is  one  for  us  to  lay  to 
heart  as  well.  We  have  all  got  work  to  do  for  God,  and 
we  must  never  lose  courage  if  it  seems  to  fail  or  come  to 
nothing.  The  great  thing  is  to  learn  the  lesson  of  simple 
obedience ;  to  go  on  doing  whatever  God  gives  us  to  do 
faithfully  and  well.  He  will  take  care  that  no  work  is 
ever  wasted  that  is  done  for  love  of  Him.  '  The  world,' it 
has  been  said,  *  crowns  success — God  crowns  ftiithfulness.' 


VI 


^MIRACLES    OF    HEALING    AT    CAPERNAUM — THE    CI>EANSING 
OF    THE    LEPER 

Followed  by  His  four  disciples,  Jesus  now  took  up  His 
abode  at  Capernaum.  We  get  a  good  idea  from  the  Bible 
story  of  the  kind  of  life  He  lived  in  the  little  city  by  the 
silver  sea.  It  was  a  life  given  up  to  works  of  mercy  and 
loving-kindness.  As  we  read  of  all  the  kind  and  wonder- 
ful things  He  did,  we  can  well  understand  how  glad  and 
thankful  the  people  of  Capernaum  must  have  been  to 
welcome  so  great  a  teacher  and  healer  as  their  guest. 

It  was  the  Sabbath  day,  and  Jesus  had  gone  in  the 
early  morning,  as  His  custom  was,  to  attend  the  service 
at  the  synagogue.  There  would  not  be  many  empty 
seats  in  the  great  white  marble  building  when  it  was 
known  that  Jesus  was  going  to  preach.  When  He 
mounted  the  preacher's  platform  and  sat  down  to  speak 
to  the  people,  a  great  hush  would  fall  upon  the  congrega- 
tion and  they  would  listen  eagerly  to  the  message  that 
fell  from  His  lips. 

Jesus'  sermons  were  so  different  from  the  long,  dry, 
tiresome  discourses  of  the  Rabbis  and  the  Scribes  to 
which  the  people  were  accustomed,  that  it  was  no  wonder 
they  heard  Him  gladly.  The  Scribes  and  Pharisees 
simply  echoed  the  words  of  teachers  who  were  dead  and 
gone — they  had  no  message  of  their  own  to  give,  .lesus' 
messpge  was  a  living  and  powerful  one ;  He  spoke  as  one 


132  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

who  had  authority,  and  His  words  were  like  the  words  of 
a  king.  Then  again  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  were  hard 
and  proud  and  unloving,  and  He  was  always  kind  and 
compassionate.  People  felt  He  understood  their  troubles 
and  difficulties  and  was  sorry  for  them  ;  they  felt  He 
knew  how  hard  they  found  the  battle  against  temptation 
and  sin,  and  wanted  to  help  them  fight  it ;  and  as  they 
listened  their  cares  and  sorrows  seemed  to  be  lifted 
away. 

On  this  particular  Sunday,  when  Jesus  was  preaching 
and  the  people  were  eagerly  drinking  in  His  words, 
suddenly  the  whole  synagogue  was  startled  by  the  loud 
scream  of  a  man  possessed  with  a  devil. 

There  were  many  of  these  poor  people  wandering 
about  in  Jesus'  day,  and  they  were  the  most  pitiable 
and  miserable  beings  we  can  well  imagine.  The  man 
possessed  with  a  devil  was  really  in  worse  bondage  than 
a  madman.  He  had  no  rest  or  peace.  As  the  wind 
hunts  the  withered  leaf,  so  the  evil  spirit  harassed  and 
drove  and  tormented  him  by  day  and  night;  and  there 
was  no  door  of  escape.  One  of  the  saddest  things  about 
his  sad,  unhappy  case  was  that  he  knew  perfectly  well 
the  misery  of  his  lot.  He  was  as  a  man  torn  in  twain — 
he  might  see  the  right  and  the  good  and  long  to  follow 
it,  and  yet,  at  the  same  time,  he  might  be  led  against 
his  will  into  all  kinds  of  sin  and  uncleanness. 

'  Just  like  one  who  in  his  dream  finds  himself  engaged 
in  some  dreadful  deed  from  which  his  whole  soul  starts 
back  in  horror,  but  which  he  must  do  to  the  end,'  so 
it  was  with  the  poor  devil-haunted  man.  He  was 
driven  to  do  the  devil's  work  against  his  will.  Struggle 
as  he  might,  he  was  powerless  to  break  the  cruel  chain 
that  bound  him.  I  have  said  it  was  the  voice  of  the 
possessed  of  the  devil  which  rang  through  the  synp^ogue. 


MIRACLES  OF  HEALING  133 

but  it  was  really  the  evil  spirit  that  spoke  through  the  man's 
lips.  It  knew  well  enough  who  Jesus  was  and  what  He 
had  come  to  do,  and  it  shrank  from  His  all-holy  presence 
just  as  evil  crawling  things  that  love  darkness  shrink 
away  before  the  light. 

'  Let  us  alone ;  what  have  we  to  do  with  Thee,  Thou 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  ?  art  Thou  come  to  destroy  us  ?  I 
know  Tiiee  who  Thou  art,  the  Holy  One  of  God.'  So 
the  awful  voice  cries  out.  And  Jesus  rises  in  majesty, 
His  eyes  shining  like  lamps  of  fire,  and  rebukes  the  foul 
spirit.  '  Ee  silent,  and  come  out  of  him,'  He  says.  And  at 
His  words  the  man  falls  down  writhing  upon  the  ground, 
while  the  evil  spirit  leaves  him,  in  obedience  to  Jesus' 
word ;  so  that  the  people  are  amazed.  '  What  a  word  is 
this  I '  they  say ;  '  for  with  authority  commandeth  He 
even  the  unclean  spirits,  and  they  do  obey  Him.' 

Leaving  the  synagogue,  Jesus  next  went  out  to  Simon 
Peter's  house.  The  home  of  St.  Peter  was  really  at 
Bethsaida,  but  he  seems  to  have  moved  to  Capernaum — 
which  was  only  a  little  way  off — in  order  to  be  near  his 
Master. 

St.  Peter  had  his  wife's  mother  living  with  him,  and  at 
the  time  of  Jesus'  visit  she  lay  sick  of  a  'great  fever.' 
There  were  several  flat,  marshy  plains  about  the  Sea  of 
Galilee,  and  Capernaum  was  near  one  of  them.  INIarshes 
breed  fever,  and  the  fever  from  which  Peter's  wife's 
mother  was  suffering  was  the  scourge  of  the  countryside. 

No  sooner  had  Jesus  crossed  the  threshold  than  they 
tell  Him  of  the  dark  shadow  that  has  fallen  upon  the 
house,  and  He  at  once  makes  His  way  to  where  the  sick 
woman  hes,  tossing  and  moaning  upon  her  pallet.  He 
does  not  drive  away  the  fever  by  a  w^ord,  as  He  had  done 
before  in  the  case  of  the  nobleman's  little  lad.  He  goes 
up  to  her  bedside,  and  takes  her  by  the  hand,  and  lifts  her 


134  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

up.  (It  is  St.  Mark  who  tells  us  this,  and  his  Gospel  has 
been  called  'the  Gospel  of  the  Hand,'  because  he  so  often 
speaks  of  the  outstretched,  loving  hand  of  Jesus.)  And 
lo !  at  His  touch  the  fever  leaves  the  sufferer,  and  she 
is  made  perfectly  well  and  strong  again.  So  completely 
indeed  is  her  health  restored  that,  rising  from  her  bed, 
she  goes  quietly  about  the  house  as  if  nothing  had 
happened,  and  is  able  to  show  her  gratitude  to  Jesus  by 
acts  of  loving  ministry. 

And  so  the  morning  and  afternoon  pass  away  and 
by  and  by  evening  draws  on.  Hitherto  there  had  been 
but  few  people  to  be  seen  in  the  streets.  It  was  the  day 
of  rest,  and  people  might  not  walk  more  than  a  short 
distance  from  their  houses,  nor  carry  any  burdens  out 
of  doors  until  dusk  fell.  Then,  when  three  stars  could 
be  counted  in  the  sky,  a  silver  trumpet  was  blown,  and 
the  holy  day  was  over. 

The  people  of  Capernaum  had  been  anxiously  await- 
ing this  moment,  and  as  soon  as  the  sun's  rim  dipped 
behind  the  hills  and  the  faint  silver  of  the  stars  began  to 
show,  they  came  streaming  out  of  nearly  every  house, 
bringing  their  sick  to  lay  them  at  Jesus'  feet. 

It  must  have  been  a  strange,  pathetic  sight — that 
great  multitude  of  sick  people  gathered  together  before 
St.  Peter's  door. 

Among  the  crowd  might  be  noticed  some  rough 
fisherman  tenderly  carrying  in  his  arms  his  little  crippled 
boy.  He  has  come  in  the  hope  that  Jesus  will  straighten 
out  the  twisted  limbs  of  his  little  lad  and  make  him 
strong  and  well,  and  able  to  play  and  run  about  like 
other  children.  Or  you  might  see  the  anxious  mother, 
straining  to  her  breast  her  sick  child,  whose  bright  eyes 
and  flushed  cheek  tell  of  the  fever  fire  that  is  slowly 
burning  the  little  life  away.     There,  with  slow  and  painful 


MIRACLES  OF  HEALING  135 

step,  would  come  the  lame  man,  helped  along  by  kindly 
hands.  There,  borne  high  through  the  press  upon  a 
litter,  some  poor  paralytic  unable  to  stir  hand  or  foot, 
an  even  heavier  burden  to  himself  than  to  his  friends. 
The  blind  beggar  and  the  deaf  mute,  the  halt  and  the 
maimed,  the  sick  and  the  dying,  all  who  were  in  pain  and 
had  need  of  healing,  were  gathered  there  to  await  the 
coming  of  the  Good  Physician  and  taste  the  medicine 
of  His  loving,  healing  touch.  Presently  the  door  opens 
and  Jesus  comes  out.  He  looks  upon  the  scene  of 
suffering  spread  before  Him,  and  His  eye  softens  and  His 
face  becomes  very  pitiful.  Stepping  out  into  the  crowded 
street,  He  passes  along  the  narrow  lane  they  make  for 
Him  to  go  by  ;  and  as  He  goes  He  lays  His  hand  first 
on  one  and  then  on  another,  and  always  with  a  bright 
look  and  kindly,  loving  word  for  each.  He  touches  the 
sick  child  and  the  dying  woman,  the  cripple  with  his 
bent  back,  and  the  sick  of  the  palsy  with  his  shaking, 
trembling  limbs.  And  at  his  touch  dim  eyes  grow 
bright,  the  colour  steals  back  to  faded  hollow  cheeks, 
the  pain  and  the  weakness  all  disappear. 

'The  blind  beheld  His  face 
Who  is  more  fair  than  all  the  sons  of  men 
The  lame  man  leaped  in  praise ;  the  leper's  voice 
Forgot  in  happy  song  his  old  sad  cry. 
The  sick  man's  moan  of  weariness  or  pain 
Was  heard  no  more.     This  father  for  a  son 
At  point  to  die,  that  for  a  daughter  dead — 
Weeping  and  praying — heard  one  word  of  power 
And  ceased  to  weep,  or  wept  again  for  joy.' 

There  must  have  been  many  happy  homes  that  night 
in  little  seaside  Capernaum.  Yesterday  they  had  been — 
many  of  them — plunged  in  darkest  gloom,  but  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  had  passed  by  and  the  dark  shadow  of  suffer- 
ing and  of  pain  had  been  lifted  away.     Hearts  once  sad 


136  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

were  filled  with  gladness  now.  God  had  '  sent  His  word 
and  healed  them,'  and  *they  were  saved  from  their 
destruction.' 

Rest  is  sweet  to  the  weary,  and  Jesus  must  sadly 
have  needed  rest,  for  His  had  been  a  crowded,  busy  day. 
But  though  He  retired  to  rest  He  did  not  sleep  the 
hours  of  the  night  away  as  did  the  others.  Long  before 
the  streets  of  Capernaum  were  again  astir,  while  the 
stars  were  still  lighting  the  Heaven  with  their  soft  fire. 
He  arose  and  wandered  away  by  Himself  in  the  direction 
of  the  quiet  hills  that  lay  behind  the  town.  Climbing  to 
the  top  of  one  of  these  He  knelt  long  upon  His  knees  in 
earnest  prayer.  Had  Nathanael  been  with  Him  then 
he  might  perhaps  have  seen  the  sight  that  Jesus  had 
promised  he  should  see  one  day — the  heavens  opened, 
and  the  white-robed  messengers  of  God  ascending  and 
descending  upon  the  Son  of  Man.  But  no  human  eye 
rested  upon  Jesus  as  He  knelt.  He  was  quite  alone  but 
for  the  angels. 

Jesus'  greatest  joy,  we  know,  lay  in  thus  going  apart 
to  be  alone  with  God.  It  was  in  communion  with  His 
Heavenly  Father  that  He  found  strength  to  follow  the 
path  of  pain  and  self-sacrifice  He  had  set  Himself  to 
tread.  After  prayer  the  heavy  burden  of  His  life-work 
seemed  to  lighten,  and  He  would  go  back  with  new 
courage  to  face  the  difficulties  and  disappointments  that 
awaited  Him  in  the  world. 

And  now  the  morning  broke  upon  the  hills,  and 
Jesus  saw  St.  Peter  and  the  other  disciples  climbing  the 
green  slope  upon  whose  summit  He  was  standing.  Early 
as  it  was,  the  people  of  Capernaum  had  already  begun  to 
enquire  for  Jesus  and  to  try  to  find  Him,  and  St.  Peter 
had  come  to  tell  Him  this.  '  Master,'  he  says  proudly, 
*  all  men  seek  for  Thee.'     He  was  so  pleased  and  happy 


THE  CLEANSINCi  OF  THE  LEPER      137 

to  think  that  the  wliole  town  was  at  Jesus'  feet ;  he 
wanted  his  Master  to  come  back  and  enjoy  His  triumph. 
But  Jesus  did  not  intend  to  return  to  Capernaum  just 
then.  God  had  sent  Him,  He  tells  His  disciples,  not  to 
bless  and  help  the  people  of  Capernaum  alone,  but  those 
of  the  otlier  towns  and  villages  as  well.  And  so,  instead 
of  going  back  to  the  town,  He  began  a  journey  through 
Galilee,  going  from  place  to  place  preaching  the  glad 
tidings  of  the  Kingdom,  healing  the  sick,  and  casting  out 
devils. 

Only  one  of  Jesus'  miracles  in  this  journey  of  His  is 
described  in  the  Gospels.  This  is  the  miracle  of  the 
cleansing  of  a  leper. 

Leprosy  was  a  very  common  disease  among  the  Jews, 
and  a  very  awful  one.  It  has  been  described  as  a  living 
death,  and  the  leper  himself  as  a  walking  sepulchre.  It 
began  in  the  form  of  tiny  spots  upon  the  skin,  which 
gradually  spread  until  the  whole  body  became  an  awful 
silvery  white,  and  by  slow  degrees  perished  and  fell  to 
pieces.  It  was  a  disease  sent,  it  was  thought,  straight 
from  God,  and  so  it  went  by  the  name  of  *  the  stroke.' 
There  was  no  cure  for  it;  only  God  who  sent  it  could 
take  it  away.  It  was  looked  upon  too  as  a  type  of  sin, 
and  accordingly  the  leper  was  avoided  and  shunned  as 
one  under  the  ban  of  God's  displeasure.  He  was  obliged 
to  say  good-bye  to  all  his  friends ;  to  leave  his  wife  and 
children  and  his  home,  and  to  wander  day  after  day,  like 
some  wild  and  savage  animal,  in  the  fields  and  woods 
and  desert  places.  He  might  not  drink  from  any  running 
stream ;  he  might  not  rest  his  fevered,  aching  limbs  by 
the  desert  well,  or  enter  any  house  in  search  for  food. 
Should  any  one  speak  to  him,  he  must  not  return  an 
answer ;  should  any  one  approach,  he  must  warn  him  off 
by  raising  the  leper's  cry,  '  Unclean,  unclean  1 ' 


138  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Clothed  in  sackcloth,  and  with  a  covering  on  his  lips, 
*as  one  that  mourneth  for  his  mother,'  the  leper  dragged 
out  his  solitary,  dreadful  existence.  By  degrees  his 
leprosy  grew  until  it  poisoned  the  very  springs  of  life ; 
and  then  death  mercifully  put  an  end  to  his  sufferings. 

It  was  a  man  '  full  of  leprosy,'  St.  Luke,  the  physician, 
tells  us,  that  met  Jesus  as  He  was  passing  through 
Galilee ;  that  is  to  say,  a  leper  with  the  disease  in  its 
worst  and  most  terrible  form.  The  fame  of  Jesus' 
wonderful  cures  had  spread  far  and  wide  among  the 
towns  and  villages  of  Gahlee,  and  the  poor,  suffering, 
half-dying  man  seems  to  have  thought  that  if  he  could 
but  drag  himself  into  Jesus'  presence,  the  great  Healer 
might  have  mercy  upon  him  and  recover  him  of  his 
leprosy.  Had  not  God's  prophets  of  old  been  granted 
the  power  of  healing  the  leper,  and  would  not  the  Christ, 
if  this  indeed  were  He,  be  able  to  do  much  more  than 
they? 

And  so  he  draws  near  to  Jesus  as  he  sees  Him 
approaching.  He  hardly  dares  to  come  near  because  he 
knows  he  has  no  right  to  come,  and  yet  he  feels  it  is 
his  only  chance,  and  he  must  seize  it  or  be  lost.  The 
people  shrink  back  at  his  approach  with  horror  and 
dismay,  but  he  gives  no  heed  to  them.  Kneeling  at 
Jesus'  feet  with  a  dreadful,  appealing  look  in  his  eyes, 
he  cries  in  broken  tones,  '  Lord,  if  Thou  wilt,  Thou 
canst  make  me  clean.'  And  Jesus  looks  at  him,  and 
seeing  the  awful  ravages  the  leprosy  has  caused,  and 
the  agony  of  the  sufferer,  He  is  filled  with  pity.  He 
sometimes  kept  people  waiting  before  He  spoke  the 
word  of  cure  for  which  they  longed,  but  we  never  read 
of  His  keeping  a  leper  waiting.  Swiftly  come  the  words  : 
*  I  will :  be  thou  clean  ' ;  and  as  He  speaks  He  puts  forth 
His  hand  and  touches  the  leper. 


THE  CLEANSING  OF  THE  LEPER      139 

*  And  lo  !  the  scales  fell  from  him,  and  his  blood 
Coursed  with  delicious  coolness  through  his  veins; 
And  his  dry  palms  grew  moist,  and  on  his  brow 
The  dewy  softness  of  an  infant's  stole. 
His  leprosy  was  cleansed,  and  he  fell  down 
Prostrate  at  Jesus'  feet  and  worshipped  Him.' 

How  surprised  the  disciples  and  those  wno  stood 
around  must  have  been  to  see  Jesus  lay  His  hand  upon 
the  leper  !  To  touch  one  suffering  from  leprosy  meant 
defilement,  so  the  Law  of  JNloses  taught ;  it  was  as  bad  as 
touching  a  dead  body.  Why,  they  must  have  wondered, 
did  the  Master  run  this  risk  ?  Ah,  they  had  yet  to  learn 
that  defilement  could  never  touch  Jesus.  '  The  current 
flowed  the  other  way.'  His  touch  brought  cleansing  to 
every  stained  and  evil  thing  He  touched,  but  nothing 
could  hurt  or  defile  Him  in  return.  Just  as  the  sunlight 
touches  to  gold  the  muddy  waters  of  some  roadside  pool 
and  yet  takes  no  taint,  so  it  was  with  Him.  All  through 
His  life  He  was  touching  stained  and  evil  things,  yet  got 
no  hurt  by  touching  them.  He  could  eat  and  drink  with 
publicans  and  sinners  and  be  none  the  worse  for  it.  He 
could  reach  down  His  hand  to  the  very  depths  to  lift 
the  sinner  out  of  the  mire  and  clay  of  his  sins,  and  draw 
it  up  again  as  white  as  snow.  For  He  was  the  source  of 
holiness.  Power  to  cleanse  and  heal  was  ever  streaming 
out  from  Him  like  a  fountain  ;  defilement  and  uncleanness 
had  no  power  to  stain  or  enter  in. 

Jesus  laid  a  command  upon  the  leper  as  He  sent  him 
away,  cured  and  rejoicing.  He  told  him  not  to  spread 
abroad  the  story  of  his  cure,  but  to  make  his  way  quietly 
to  Jerusalem  and  get  a  certificate  of  his  cleansing  from 
the  Temple  priests,  and  offer  the  sacrifices  the  law  pre- 
scribed in  the  case  of  a  man  healed  of  his  leprosy  by  the 
power  of  God. 


140  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Oh,  how  blue  the  arch  of  the  sky  above  his  head  must 
have  seemed  to  the  healed  man  as  he  went  his  way ;  how 
beautiful  the  flowers  that  fringed  the  roadway  along 
which  he  passed ;  how  lovely  the  song  of  the  birds  among 
the  branches !  How  his  heart  must  have  leaped  for  joy 
at  the  thought  of  the  friends  and  loved  ones  to  whom  he 
was  now  given  back,  and  the  welcome  home  that  awaited 
him  on  his  return !  So  happy  was  he  that  he  seems  to 
have  forgotten  Jesus'  command  to  keep  the  story  of  his 
cure  a  secret,  but  told  it  everywhere.  And  as  he  told  it 
the  news  spread,  until  Jesus  was  no  longer  able  to  enter 
into  the  towns  and  cities  because  of  the  eager,  excited 
crowds  which  began  to  press  around  Him  in  the  hope  of 
seeing  some  wonder  worked  by  Him.  And  so  He  with- 
drew to  the  wilderness  for  awhile,  and  there,  in  the  quiet 
of  the  desert,  unvexed  by  the  bustle  and  noise  of  a  rest- 
less world,  He  sought  for  rest  and  strengthening  power 
in  prayer. 


VII 


HOW    A    PARALYSED     MAN     CAME    THROUGH     THE     ROOF — ■ 

THE    CALL    OF    LEVI    THE    PUBLICAN HOW    THE     KING 

CHOSE    TWELVE    AMBASSADORS 

After  having  gone  through  the  towns  and  villages  of 
Galilee,  Jesus  once  more  returned  to  '  His  own  City,' 
Capernaum,  and  sought  shelter  as  before  beneath  the  roof 
of  Simon  Peter.  He  came  back  as  quietly  and  secretly 
as  He  went  away,  but  the  news  that  He  had  returned 
soon  spread,  and,  before  long,  eager  crowds  were  besieging 
the  house  where  He  was,  in  the  hope  of  looking  once 
more  upon  His  beautiful  face  and  listening  to  the  music 
of  His  gentle,  loving  words. 

If  Peter's  house  were  not  of  the  very  poorest  kind,  it 
was  probably  built  around  a  sort  of  square  courtyard  with 
a  verandah  or  balcony  running  along  each  side  of  it,  upon 
which  the  rooms  of  the  house  opened.  There  would  be  a 
passage  leading  into  the  courtyard  from  the  street,  and 
through  this  passage  the  crowd  began  to  press,  in  such 
numbers  that  the  courtyard  was  soon  full  to  overflowing, 
and  the  doorway  was  completely  blocked.  Taking  His 
stand  upon  the  balcony,  and  surrounded  by  some  of  the 
more  important  people.  Scribes  and  Pharisees  and  Doctors 
(or  teachers)  of  the  law,  who  had  made  their  way  in  with 
the  rest,  Jesus  began  to  speak  to  the  people,  and  to  teach 
them  the  way  of  life. 

But  in  tlie  midst  of  His  discourse  a  sudden  and  start 


142  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

ling  interruption  takes  place.  On  the  outskirts  of  the 
crowd,  four  men  carrying  a  litter,  upon  which  lay  a  poor 
paralysed  man,  had  for  some  time  been  anxiously  trying 
to  force  their  way  into  Jesus'  presence.  But  the  court- 
yard is  packed  ftdl.  Try  as  they  might  they  cannot 
get  near  Him.  They  are  in  despair.  Suddenly  in  their 
difficulty  and  distress  a  brilliant  thought  occurs  to  them. 
Why  not  carry  their  sick  friend  up  the  outside  staircase 
of  the  house  which  led  up  to  the  roof,  and  make  a  hole  in 
the  tiling  of  the  verandah,  and  let  him  down  at  the  feet 
of  Jesus  ?  It  would  not  be  a  very  difficult  thing  to  do. 
The  tiling  could  easily  be  removed,  and  they  would  only 
need  to  borrow  a  length  of  cord  to  tie  to  each  corner  of 
the  litter,  and  the  thing  was  done. 

No  sooner  thought  of  than  carried  out  I  In  a  twinkling 
the  sick  man  is  carried  to  the  top  of  the  house  and  the 
roof  is  uncovered.  A  few  whispered  words,  and  a  little 
shuffling  of  feet,  and  to  the  surprise  of  everybody,  through 
the  great  hole  that  is  torn  open,  a  big  bundle  comes  slowly 
dangling  down,  apparently  from  the  sky,  like  a  spider  at 
the  end  of  its  web !  It  is  the  sick  man  upon  his  litter. 
Another  moment  and  he  is  lying  at  the  feet  of  Jesus. 

It  was  a  clever,  daring  trick,  but  Jesus  was  not  displeased 
at  it.  It  showed  faith  both  on  the  part  of  the  sick  man 
and  his  friends — faith  which  laughs  at  difficulties  and 
meets  them  only  to  overcome  them.  And  Jesus  loved 
faith.  He  looked  up  at  the  men  on  the  roof  and  caught 
the  eager,  expectant  look  on  their  rough  honest  faces ;  He 
looked  at  the  man  at  His  feet,  and  saw  the  hght  of  faith 
and  hope  shining  in  his  eyes  as  well,  and  it  was  enough. 
He  did  not  ask  the  sick  man  what  he  wanted  at  His 
hands.  He  knew  what  he  wanted,  for  His  eyes  could 
read  the  suffisrer's  heart.  '  Child,  take  courage ;  thy  sins 
be  forgiven  thee,'  come  His  words. 


THE  SICK  OF  THE  PALSY  143 

It  seemed  a  strange  thing  to  say.  Was  not  Jesus 
making  a  mistake  ?  The  man  who  lay  before  Him  was 
sick  of  a  terrible  disease.  His  friends  had  brought  him 
to  Jesus  to  be  healed.  But,  instead  of  driving  away  his 
paralysis,  He  forgives  him  his  sins.  Why  was  this  ? 
Dear  child,  I  think  Jesus  gave  the  better  gift  first  because 
He  knew  it  was  the  gift  that  was  needed  most.  Perhaps, 
who  knows,  in  the  past  the  sick  man  had  been  living 
a  sinful,  careless  life,  till  God  at  last  sent  the  stern- 
faced  Angel  of  Sorrow  into  his  life  to  turn  his  feet 
into  a  better  way.  He  had  laid  the  sick  man  aside 
from  the  world,  and  in  the  quiet  of  his  sickroom  had 
given  liim  time  to  think  over  his  sins,  and  to  repent 
of  them.  And  now  in  the  presence  of  Jesus  the  poor 
paralytic  felt  how  sinful  he  had  been,  and  how  he  had 
wasted  his  life ;  and  he  was  sorry,  and  longed  with  all  his 
heart  to  be  forgiven.  Jesus  saw  all  this;  He  saw  the 
sick  man's  sorrow,  and  how  the  weight  of  his  sin  was 
pressing  him  down,  and  so  He  spoke  the  word  which  rolled 
the  heavy  burden  past,  and  gave  the  restless,  aching  heart 
the  peace  for  which  it  longed.  Paralysed — unable  to  stir 
hand  or  foot — there  could  have  been  no  happier  soul  in 
all  that  great  crowd  than  the  sick  man  when  those  words 
of  Jesus  reached  him.  His  bodily  sickness  would  be  for- 
gotten, he  would  only  lift  his  thankful  eyes  to  Jesus'  face 
in  silent  gratitude  for  the  healing  of  his  soul. 

But  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  were  angry.  What 
would  Jesus  be  saying  next  ?  What  did  He  mean  by 
pretending  to  a  power  which  only  the  Most  High  God 
possessed  ? — He,  the  low-born  peasant  teacher,  the  car- 
penter from  Nazareth  ?  They  did  not  say  all  this  in  so 
many  words,  but  they  thought  it ;  and  Jesus  read  their 
thoughts.  Turning  to  them  He  put  a  question  to  them. 
Which  would  be  the  easier  thing  to  do ;  to  say  to  the 


144  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

sick  man,  '  Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee,'  or  to  say,  *  Arise, 
and  walk  ? '  He  knew  what  the  only  answer  could  be. 
It  would  be  as  easy  to  say  the  one  as  the  other.  Any  one 
could  say,  '  Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee,'  just  as  any  one 
could  say,  'Arise,  and  walk.'  The  question  was,  would 
any  result  follow  on  these  words  ?  Well,  of  course,  it 
was  impossible  to  prove  that  the  words  of  forgiveness  He 
had  just  spoken  had  really  taken  effect,  but  perhaps  if  He 
showed  that  by  a  word  He  had  the  power  to  heal  the  sick 
man's  body,  they  would  beHeve  that  by  a  word  He  could 
also  heal  and  bless  his  soul.  And  so,  with  the  words 
'  That  ye  may  know  that  the  Son  of  Man  hath  power  on 
earth  to  forgive  sins,'  He  bids  the  paralysed  man  arise 
and  take  up  his  bed  and  go  home  to  his  house. 

And  at  Jesus'  words  life  comes  back  to  the  poor,  numb, 
half-dead  body ;  the  helpless  limbs  receive  strength,  and 
the  man  bows  himself  at  Jesus'  feet,  cured  alike  in  body 
and  in  soul.  Then,  while  the  Pharisees  and  Doctors  stand 
by  in  silence  and  confusion,  he  shoulders  his  sleeping-mat ; 
and  the  people,  as  they  make  way  for  him  to  pass,  join 
their  praises  to  God  with  his,  and  are  filled  with  wonder 
and  amazement,  saying,  'We  have  seen  strange  things 
to-day.' 

Soon  after  this  Jesus  added  another  disciple  to  those 
whom  He  had  already  called.  This  was  Levi — or  Matthew 
as  he  afterwards  named  himself  in  memory  of  his  call. 

He  was  a  publican,  a  tax-collector,  as  the  word  means, 
and  carried  on  his  business  at  one  of  the  Capernaum  toll- 
gates.  It  was  his  work  to  take  toll  of  the  merchants  and 
fisherfolk  who  brought  their  wares  to  Capernaum  across 
the  blue  waters  of  the  lake,  or  perhaps  to  collect  the  dues 
on  the  dried  fish  and  corn  and  olive  oil  which  left  Caper- 
naum by  the  great  main  roads  which  led  to  the  seacoast, 
to  Damascus,  to  Tyre,  and  to  .Jerusalem. 


THE  CALL  OF  LEVI  145 

As  Judaea  at  this  time  was  under  Roman  rule,  the 
taxes  thus  collected  were  Roman  taxes  and  went  to  the 
imperial  treasury.  The  Roman  officers  who  were  respon- 
sible for  the  collection  of  the  money  did  not  gather  it 
themselves,  however,  but  employed  a  class  of  men  called 
publicans  to  collect  it  for  them.  These  publicans,  as  a 
rule,  were  drawn  from  a  very  low  class,  and  were  cordially 
detested  and  hated  by  all  with  whom  they  had  to  do. 
The  Jews  acknowledged  God  alone  to  be  their  King, 
and  hated  the  very  thought  of  being  in  bondage  to  any 
man.  They  thus  had  little  mercy  for  the  man  who  could 
sink  so  low  as  to  collect  taxes  for  the  foreigner.  JNIen 
turned  their  backs  upon  the  publican  with  one  consent. 
He  was  looked  upon  as  a  renegade  and  a  traitor.  No  one 
had  a  kind  word  for  him  ;  no  one  would  sit  down  to  table 
with  him.  His  witness  would  not  be  taken  in  a  court  of 
law  ;  the  very  beggar  spurned  his  alms.  No  wonder  that, 
treated  like  a  dog,  the  publican  showed  his  teeth ;  no 
wonder  that,  despised  and  shunned  and  ill-treated,  he 
revenged  himself  by  cheating  and  defrauding  his  enemies. 
To  show  a  person  that  you  think  there  is  no  good  in  him 
at  all,  is  the  best  way  to  go  to  work  to  quench  the  little 
spark  of  good  that  may  still  be  burning  in  his  heart,  and 
make  him  wholly  bad. 

But  there  was  one  who  could  see  good  even  in  a 
publican,  and  that  was  Jesus.  It  was  always  His  way 
to  see  good  in  everybody  and  everything.  There  is  an 
old  legend  which  tells  us  that  as  He  passed  through  the 
market-place  of  a  certain  city  one  day.  He  saw  a  knot 
of  people  gathered  together  looking  at  some  object  on  the 
ground.  And  He  drew  near  to  see  what  it  might  be.  It 
was  a  dead  dog  with  a  halter  round  his  neck,  by  which  he 
appeared  to  have  been  dragged  through  the  dirt,  and  a 
viler,  a  more  unclean  thing  never  met  the  eye  of  man. 

K 


146  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

And  those  who  stood  by  looked  on  in  disgust.  *  It 
pollutes  the  whole  street,'  said  one.  '  How  long,'  asked 
another,  '  shall  this  foul  beast  offend  our  sight  ? '  '  Look 
at  his  torn  hide,'  said  a  third.  'And  his  ears,'  said  a 
fourth,  'all  draggled  and  bleeding.'  'No  doubt,'  said 
a  fifth,  'he  has  been  hanged  for  thieving.'  And  Jesus 
heard  them ;  and  looking  down  compassionately  on  the 
dead  creature  He  said,  '  Pearls  cannot  equal  the  white- 
ness of  his  teeth.' 

Then  the  people  turned  to  Him  in  amazement,  and 
said  among  themselves — 

'  Who  is  this  ?  This  must  be  the  Prophet  of  Nazareth, 
for  only  He  could  find  something  to  pity  and  approve 
even  in  a  dead  dog.' 

It  is  only  a  story  this,  but  it  teaches  us  a  great 
truth.  'Jesus,'  it  has  been  truly  said,  'always  found 
the  beautiful  things.  He  always  heard  songs  of  angels 
or  the  voice  of  God  when  others  heard  only  the  sound 
of  thunder.  He  saw  flowers  where  others  only  saw  the 
thorns.  He  saw  the  stars  where  those  about  Him  saw 
only  muddy  roads.  He  found  hope  where  others  only 
found  despair.' 

Jesus'  eye  had  marked  Levi  as  he  sat  at  work  in  his 
little  office  by  the  seashore.  He  had  read  his  heart  and 
seen  in  it  the  desire  for  better  things,  and  had  judged 
him  worthy  of  a  nobler  calling.  He  knew  there  were  the 
makings  of  an  apostle  and  a  saint  in  the  poor  publican 
whom  every  one  despised ;  it  should  be  His  task  to  train 
him  to  become  both.  Levi,  in  his  turn,  had  been  drawn 
to  Jesus.  He  had  doubtless  heard  many  of  His  wonder- 
ful sermons  on  the  beach,  and  the  words  that  Jesus  spoke 
had  taken  hold  of  his  heart,  and  his  thoughts  had  already 
begun  to  turn  away  from  the  gold  of  earth  to  the  better 
gold  of  Heaven.  When  therefore  the  clear  call  came  he 
obeyed  it  without  delay. 


THE  CATJ.  OF  LEVI  147 

God's  call  to  higher  service  generally  comes  to 
people  wlien  they  are  treading  just  the  ordinary  every- 
day path  of  duty,  and  it  was  so  with  Levi.  Jesus  had 
walked  down  to  the  toll-gate  where  Levi  was  sitting, 
busy  with  his  accounts.  As  He  passed  by  He  looked 
earnestly  at  him  and  uttered  the  words  '  Follow  Me.' 
And  Levi  arose  and  followed  Jesus.  He  threw  up  his 
home,  his  money — everything,  to  become  His  disciple. 
It  was  not  a  trifling  thing  to  do,  even  for  a  publican.  It 
meant  leaving  a  business  by  which  he  had  become,  or 
might  easily  become,  very  rich.  It  meant  giving  up  a 
comfortable  house,  a  good  situation,  and  all  for  what? 
To  follow  One  who  had  nothing  to  give  him  in  the  way 
of  earthly  reward  in  return— One  who  had  no  settled 
home,  and  but  few  real  friends — One  whose  service  was 
likely  to  prove  hard  and  dangerous  and  disappointing. 
Yet  he  did  not  hesitate.  The  love  he  felt  for  Jesus 
drew  him  as  by  a  silver  cord. 

'  I  heard  Him  call — 
''Come,  follow  !"  that  was  all. 
My  gold  grew  dim  : 
My  soul  went  after  Him : 
I  rose  and  "  followed  "  :  that  was  all ! 
Who  would  not  "  follow  !  "  if  they  heard  His  call  ? 

Soon  after  this — perhaps  on  the  day  when  he  had 
settled  up  his  affairs,  and  said  a  last  good-bye  to  his  old 
work — Levi,  or  Matthew,  as  he  now  began  to  call  himself, 
made  a  great  feast,  to  which  he  invited  Jesus  and  His 
disciples.  It  must  have  been  a  feast  very  like  that 
which  Jesus  afterwards  described  in  one  of  His  parables, 
where  the  very  lowest  and  commonest  of  the  people  sat 
down  together  at  a  great  supper — men  gathered  together 
out  of  the  highways  and  hedges.  For  there  were  no 
grand  people  present  in  purple  and  fine  linen ;  only  the 
poor  and  the  outcast,  the  publican  and  sinner. 


148  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Many  of  these  strange  guests  had  been  St.  JNIatthew's 
old  friends  and  companions,  and  he  had  gathered  them  all 
together  in  order  that  they  might  all  have  an  opportunity 
of  meeting  Jesus,  and  of  winning  some  such  blessing  for 
their  poor,  evil,  sin-stained  lives,  as  he  himself  had  won. 
He  knew  Jesus  would  not  despise  the  very  worst,  for  had 
He  not  just  called  him,  a  publican,  to  be  His  disciple? 
He  knew  .lesus  longed  to  save  the  outcast  and  lost,  for 
had  He  not  just  stretched  out  His  hand  to  save  an  out- 
cast ?  And  so  Jesus  came  to  Matthew's  feast,  and  ate 
and  drank  with  the  strange  company  that  had  gathered 
there.  And  when  the  feast  was  at  an  end,  the  poor  out- 
casts would  gather  round  Him,  and  He  would  speak  to 
them,  oh!  so  tenderly,  of  the  great  Father  in  Heaven  who 
loved  the  meanest  of  His  children  and  had  sent  His  Son 
to  show  them  the  path  of  life,  and  to  guide  their  wandering 
feet  into  the  way  of  peace.  He  would  tell  them  that 
there  was  no  respect  of  persons  with  God,  but  that  God 
loved  all  men  alike ;  that  He  longed  after  each,  that  He 
wanted  the  love  of  each.  He  would  tell  them  that  it  was 
never  too  late  to  repent  of  sin ;  that  God  waited  to  for- 
give the  sinner,  and  that  the  worst  could  find  a  welcome 
in  the  Father's  Home. 

How  eagerly  these  poor  publicans  and  sinners,  whom 
everybody  despised,  would  listen  as  Jesus  spoke.  Then 
they  were  really  worth  something  after  all ;  it  really 
mattered  how  they  lived ;  God  cared,  if  no  one  else  did. 
How  wonderful  it  seemed !  And  eyes  would  fill  with 
tears  and  hard  hearts  melt  as  Jesus'  words  went  home ; 
and  from  that  day  forward  many  would  turn  their  backs 
upon  their  evil  past  and  begin  to  climb  *  the  steep  ascent ' 
which  leads  to  holiness  and  Heaven. 

The  news  that  Levi  the  publican  had  given  a  dinner 
to  his  old  friends  and  companions,  and  that  Jesus  had  sat 


THE  CATX  OF  LEVI  149 

down  to  eat  and  drink  with  them,  soon  spread  abroad,  and 
people  were  surprised  and  not  a  httle  shocked  at  Jesus 
condescension.  The  Pharisees  were  especially  scandalised. 
They  could  not  understand  how  One,  who  claimed  to  be  a 
Teacher  come  from  God,  should  go  out  of  His  way  to 
show  kindness  to  people  whom  every  decent  person 
shunned.  Still  less  could  they  understand  how  Jesus 
could  sink  Himself  to  the  level  of  these  people,  by  eating 
and  drinking  with  them  at  the  same  table.  AVhat  could 
it  mean  ?  Surely  there  must  be  some  deep  motive  behind 
so  strange  an  act.  It  made  them  curious  to  find  out  what 
tliat  motive  could  possibly  be.  And  so  they  came  to 
Jesus'  disciples  and  put  the  question  to  them,  '  Why 
eateth  your  JNIaster  with  publicans  and  sinners  ? ' 

Jesus  overheard  their  question  and  answered  it  Him- 
self There  was  indeed  a  deep  motive  in  His  doing  what 
He  had  done,  only  it  was  a  motive  which  their  hard  and 
narrow  hearts  would  find  it  difficult  to  understand.  The 
publicans  and  sinners  were  sunken  in  sin,  and  He  had 
gone  down  among  them  in  order  to  lend  them  His  hand 
to  raise  them  up.  They  needed  His  help,  that  is  why  He 
had  stooped  to  help  them.  Had  they  not  been  outcasts 
and  sinners,  there  would  have  been  no  reason  for  His 
troubling  about  them.  It  was  the  sick  man  who  had 
need  of  a  doctor,  not  the  man  who  was  well  and  strong ; 
and  the  publican  and  sinner  were  sick  ;  sick  with  the  most 
awful  of  all  diseases,  sin  ;  and  they  knew  it  and  wanted  to 
be  cured. 

They,  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  were  sick  too ;  only 
they  did  not  know  it.  They  felt  no  need  of  a  physician, 
and  so  He  had  not  come  to  them.  But  though  tliey  were 
so  satisfied  with  themselves,  God  was  not  satisfied  with 
them.  I^et  them  go  and  learn  the  lesson  God  taught  of 
old,  by  the  mouth  of  one  of  the  old  prophets,  hundreds  of 


150  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

years  before.  '  I  will  have  mercy  and  not  sacrifice.'  It 
was  better  to  have  a  loving  heart  than  to  be  full  of  out- 
ward service,  better  to  feel  pity  for  the  sinful  and  fallen 
than  to  be  strict  in  paying  tithes  and  offering  up  all  kinds 
of  sacrifices  in  the  Temple.  If  the  publican  was  so  de- 
graded and  so  lost,  why  not  try  to  make  him  better, 
instead  of  standing  by  and  pointing  the  finger  of  scorn  at 
him  ?  As  it  was,  it  was  to  the  lowly  pubhcan  that  the 
call  to  enter  God's  Kingdom  had  come  ;  the  self-righteous 
Pharisee  was  in  danger  of  being  left  outside  altogether. 

There  was  another  question  which  Jesus  answered 
about  this  time — a  question  about  fasting.  St.  Matthew's 
feast  took  place  on  one  of  the  fasting  days  of  the  Jews, 
and  the  disciples  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  who  had  been 
taught  to  observe  these  days,  were  curious  to  know  why 
Jesus  did  not  teach  His  disciples  to  observe  them  as  well. 
Jesus  had  not  taught  His  disciples  to  fast  on  certain  set 
days  ;  He  had  not,  as  far  as  we  know,  taught  them  to  fast 
at  all;  though  a  little  later  on,  in  His  great  Sermon  on 
the  Mount,  He  seems  to  take  it  for  granted  that  they 
fasted,  and  tells  them  how  they  ought  to  fast  aright.  In 
answer  to  their  question,  Jesus  makes  it  clear  that  there 
must  be  a  proper  motive  for  fasting ;  some  better  motive 
than  merely  because  certain  days  were  put  aside  for  it. 
The  time  was  coming  when  He  should  be  taken  away 
from  His  disciples,  and  then  they  would  have  good  reason 
for  fasting,  and  would  fast  for  grief  and  sorrow  of  heart. 
While  He  was  with  them,  however,  it  was  not  natural 
that  they  should  fast  and  be  sad,  any  more  than  for 
guests  to  fast  and  be  sad  at  a  happy  wedding  party, 
with  the  bridegroom  standing  in  their  midst. 

And  then  Jesus  went  on  to  show  that  there  were 
many  customs  which  were  observed  by  religious  Jews, 
which  would  not  be  binding  on  the  subjects  of  the  new 


THE  TWELVE  AMBASSADORS  151 

Kingdom  He  was  about  to  set  up.  The  old  rules  and 
regulations  which  hedged  in  the  worship  and  service  of 
God  were  passing  away.  It  would  be  as  foolish  to  try- 
to  mix  the  old  law  and  the  new  gospel,  as  it  would  be  to 
try  to  patch  an  old  garment  with  a  new  piece  of  cloth 
—the  edges  would  not  hold  together.  It  would  be  like 
putting  new  and  unfermented  wine  into  old  goatskin 
bottles — the  bottles  would  burst  and  the  wine  would  be 
spilled. 

Shortly  after  this  Jesus  made  up  the  number  of  His 
disciples  to  twelve,  and  gathered  them  together  into  one 
company,  and  began  to  train  them  for  the  work  they 
would  have  to  do  after  He  had  gone  back  to  Heaven, 
the  great  and  important  work  of  carrying  on  His  Church. 

But  before  doing  this  He  left  Capernaum  as  even- 
ing fell,  and,  making  His  way  towards  the  western  hills, 
He  again  sought  His  Heavenly  Father's  face  in  prayer. 
'  Brought  up  among  the  hills,  Jesus  was  ever  fond  of  their 
solitude,  their  pure  air,  and  open  sky,  which  seemed  to 
bring  Him  nearer  His  Father.'  This  time  He  spent  the 
whole  night  in  prayer ;  praying,  we  may  believe,  not  only 
for  Himself,  but  for  the  twelve  He  had  chosen  to  be 
His  apostles  or  'messengers';  asking  God's  blessing  upon 
them  and  the  glad  message  of  salvation  they  should  carry 
to  the  world. 

At  last  morning  dawned,  and,  ascending  the  hillside, 
the  disciples  made  their  way  to  Jesus'  side.  They  were 
already  bound  together  by  the  common  tie  of  love  they 
bore  their  Master.  To-day  they  were  to  be  united  even 
more  closely  still.  Jesus'  eye  rests  lovingly  upon  each  in 
turn  as  they  stand  before  Him,  and  then  He  calls  them 
each  by  name,  and  one  by  one  they  kneel  at  His  feet, 
as  He  solemnly  separates  them  for  the  work  of  the 
ministry. 


152  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

First  would  come  the  three  we  seem  to  know  best,  and 
whom  we  always  find  '  linked  together  by  a  golden  chain ' 
in  the  Gospel  story — St.  Peter,  St.  James,  and  St.  John. 
They  were  the  disciples  whom  Jesus  trusted  most,  and  to 
whom  He  gave  special  proofs  of  His  tenderness  and  love. 
Then  would  follow  St.  Andrew,  the  missionary  disciple 
who  brought  people  to  Jesus. 

Afterwards  would  come  St.  Philip,  the  '  sincere  but 
timid  seeker  after  truth ' ;  then  St.  Bartholomew,  the 
Nathanael  whom  Jesus  saw  under  the  fig-tree,  and  who, 
an  old  legend  tells  us,  was  a  gardener ;  then  St.  Matthew 
the  publican ;  then  St.  Thomas,  slow  to  believe  yet  quick 
to  lose  and  hazard  all  tor  Christ. 

Another  little  group,  and  the  twelve  would  be  com- 
plete— St.  James  '  the  little,'  so  called  because  he  was  small 
of  stature  like  St.  Paul ;  St.  Jude,  the  '  brave-hearted '  man 
who,  in  the  epistle  he  afterwards  wrote,  bids  us  '  earnestly 
contend  for  the  faith  which  was  once  for  all  delivered  unto 
the  saints ' ;  St.  Simon,  member  of  the  fierce  Jewish  sect 
called  the  Zealots,  because  of  their  fiery  zeal  for  their 
country  and  their  religion.  Last  of  all  Judas  Iscariot, 
who  bears  the  awful  name  of  'traitor,'  the  man  who 
afterwards  sold  his  Master  for  thirty  pieces  of  silver. 

Such  were  the  apostles  whom  Jesus  called  to  be  His 
chief  helpers  in  setting  up  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  on 
earth — that  kingdom  which  has  outlived  so  many  earthly 
kingdoms — which  is  with  us  now,  and  which  shall  never 
pass  away,  the  kingdom  we  call  the  Church. 

We  shall  follow  their  history  as  we  follow  the  history 
of  Jesus,  but  I  should  like  you  to  notice  just  two  things 
about  them  now. 

First,  we  can  hardly  imagine  twelve  men  more  unlike. 
They  differed  in  character  'as  one  star  differeth  from 
another  star  in  glory.'     And  yet  Jesus  found  a  work  for 


THE  TWELVE  AMBASSADORS  153 

each  to  do,  the  very  work  which  suited  each  the  best. 
Just  as  the  watchmaker  fits  the  right  wheel  into  the  right 
part  of  a  watch,  so  Jesus  fitted  each  apostle  into  the 
place  God  intended  him  to  fill.  And  so  we  learn  that 
God  has  room  for  all  kinds  of  characters  in  His  Church, 
and  has  a  work  for  each  to  do — 

'  There  's  not  a  child  so  small  and  weak 
But  has  his  little  cross  to  take. 
His  little  work  of  faith  and  love 
That  he  may  do  for  Jesus'  sake.' 

Some  are  fitted  for  one  kind  of  work,  and  some  for 
another.  To  some  it  falls  to  do  great  and  noble  deeds 
for  God ;  others  are  only  able  to  do  little  loving  ones ; 
yet  the  work  we  are  able  to  do  is  just  the  work  God 
wants  us  to  do ;  and  the  place  in  which  He  puts  us  is  the 
place  which  no  one  can  rightly  fill  except  ourselves. 

Secondly,  we  notice  how  poor  and  humble  and  unim- 
portant were  the  men  whom  Jesus  chose  to  be  the  pillars 
of  His  Church.  INIost  of  them  were  common  fisherfolk 
from  Galilee;  one  was  perhaps  a  gardener,  another  (St. 
Philip),  it  is  thought,  was  a  charioteer,  another,  one  of  the 
despised  and  hated  publicans.  And  yet  God  used  these 
few  poor  common  working-men  to  do  the  greatest  work 
the  world  has  ever  seen  or  dreamt  of.  And  so  again  we 
learn  that  it  is  not  always  the  grandest  and  most  important 
people  that  God  has  most  use  for ;  it  is  often  the  people  who 
seem  to  be  of  the  least  importance, '  the  poor  of  this  world 
rich  in  faith  ' ;  the  meek  and  lowly  and  humble  of  heart. 
I  may  only  be  a  little  child,  and  yet,  if  I  do  my  best  to 
serve  God  and  let  my  light  shine,  God  may  yet  make  my 
life  a  blessing  to  the  world.  There  is  not  one  little  act 
of  mine,  one  whispered  prayer  that  God's  Kingdom  may 
come,  that  ever  goes  for  nothing.     I  must  never  think  I 


154  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

am  too  small  and  weak  to  be  of  use  to  God.     '  If,'  says 

a  good  man,  '  I  can  only  place  one  little  golden  brick  m  ,  | 

the  pavement  of  the  King's  highway,  let  me  place  it  there.  ; 

Coming  generations  shall  yet  walk  thereon  on  their  way 

to  the  Heavenly  City.' 


VIII 

THE    KING    ON    THE    MOUNT    OF    BLESSING 

The  place  where  Jesus  spent  the  night  in  prayer,  before 
choosing  His  twelve  apostles,  is  thought  to  have  been  a 
mountain  which  rises  on  the  western  side  of  the  Sea  of 
Galilee,  about  three  hours' journey  from  Capernaum.  It 
is  a  mountain  somewhat  strangely  shaped,  being  crowned 
by  two  horns  or  peaks,  separated  from  one  another  by  a 
stretch  of  green  and  level  plain. 

On  descending  into  this  plain,  Jesus  found  it  filled 
with  a  great  multitude  which  had  gathered  together  from 
the  surrounding  towns  and  villages  in  search  of  Him. 
His  first  care  was  to  heal  their  sick,  for  the  sick  and  suffer- 
ing were  always  the  special  objects  of  compassion  on  the 
part  of  the  Good  Physician.  Then,  seated  on  some  green 
mound  or  rocky  boulder  with  His  disciples  and  the  crowd 
ranged  around  Him,  He  began  the  great  discourse  which 
we  know  by  the  name  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 

It  was  a  wonderfid  day  in  the  world's  history  when 
Jesus  opened  His  lips  to  that  poor  ignorant  multitude 
upon  the  mountain.  No  teaching  like  His  had  ever  been 
heard  before.  There  on  His  mountain  throne  He  sat  like 
a  great  King,  His  palace  carpet  the  green  grass  with  its 
embroidery  of  many-coloured  flowers,  the  ceiling  above 
His  head  the  sky's  blue  canopy,  His  chamber  walls  the 
shining  mountain  peaks.  And  as  He  sat  He  taught  the 
glad  news  of  a  Kingdom  of  Heaven  on  earth  which  should 
never   pass   away.     Who   had  ever  dreamed   of  such  a 


156  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

kingdom  as  this  before?  Who  could  have  imagined  a 
kingdom  with  gates  wide  enough  to  take  in  all  the  world  ; 
a  kingdom  of  love  and  peace  and  righteousness,  where  all 
men  should  live  together  as  brothers,  and  where  the  weary 
and  heavy-laden  and  the  wandering  and  lost  of  every  age 
and  clime  might  find  a  home  to  the  end  of  the  world  ? 
Yet  such  was  to  be  Jesus'  Kingdom,  the  Church.  He 
had  that  morning  set  up  its  foundations ;  now  He  begins 
to  describe  its  character  and  to  lay  down  the  rules  by 
which  it  is  to  be  governed. 

As  we  think  of  Jesus  upon  His  mountain  throne,  pro- 
claiming the  laws  of  His  Kingdom,  we  are  reminded  of 
that  other  wonderful  scene  of  old  when  God  came  down  to 
Sinai  to  give  the  ten  commandments  to  His  people.  Both 
the  old  and  the  new  law  are  given  by  God,  and  from  a 
mountain.     And  yet  how  different  the  two  scenes  are. 

There  God  appeared  in  His  awful  majesty,  so  that '  the 
earth  shook  and  the  heavens  also  dropped  '  at  His  presence ; 
here  He  is  seen  '  found  in  fashion  as  a  man,'  seated 
lovingly  amidst  His  people.  Then  the  voice  of  thunder 
was  heard  upon  the  mountain  ;  now  the  quiet  voice  of 
Jesus  sounds  'soft  and  winning  as  the  sunshine  on  the 
flowers.'  Then  the  people  greatly  feared  and  quaked  and 
were  forbidden  to  touch  the  mountain  on  pain  of  death ; 
now  they  are  invited  to  sit  at  Jesus'  feet,  and  as  they  sit 
they  listen  with  rapt  and  eager  faces.  Then,  too,  there 
were  threatenings  and  warnings  to  the  disobedient ;  now 
God  speaks  peace  to  His  people,  and  His  message  is  one 
of  mercy  and  hope  and  blessing. 

The  sermon  begins  by  describing  the  character  of  the 
citizens  of  the  Kingdom — 

♦  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit :  for  theirs  is  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven. 
Blessed  are  they  that  mourn :  for  they  shall  be  comforted. 
Blessed  are  the  meek :  for  they  shall  inherit  the  earth. 


THE  MOUNT  OF  BLESSING  157 

Blessed  are  they  which  do  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness :  for 

they  shall  be  filled. 
Blessed  are  the  merciful :  for  they  shall  obtain  mercy. 
Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart :  for  they  shall  see  God. 
Blessed  are  the  peacemakers :  for  they  shall  be  called  the  children  of 

God. 
Blessed  are  they  which  are  persecuted  for  righteousness'  sake :  for 

theirs  is  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven.' 

Jesus  put  this  beautiful  picture  before  the  multitude 
to  show  them  what  kind  of  people  He  expected  His 
disciples  to  be.  All  these  different  precepts  taken 
together  form  the  character  of  the  true  Christian.  As 
we  look  into  the  picture,  do  we  not  see  what  the  copy 
set  before  us  really  is  ?  Does  not  a  face  seem  to  grow 
out  of  the  canvas,  the  face  of  the  King  Himself? 

And  yet  these  '  Beatitudes,'  as  they  are  called,  must 
have  sounded  strangely  in  the  ears  of  the  listening  people. 
The  Jews  were  apt  to  think  that  God  would  be  satisfied  if 
they  gave  Him  a  measure  of  outward  service  and  were 
careful  to  perform  certain  religious  duties.  Jesus  says, 
*  No !  it  is  not  the  doing,  but  the  being  that  is  the  im- 
portant thing.  It  is  the  pure  in  heart  to  whom  God 
grants  the  vision  of  His  face ;  it  is  those  who  feel  their 
own  unworthiness,  it  is  those  who  are  willing  to  suffer 
reproach  for  My  sake  to  whom  His  Kingdom  rightly 
belongs.'  In  a  word,  Jesus  tells  us  that  the  Blessed  of 
God  are  those  who  have  the  Heavenly  mind.  The  true 
citizen  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  is  he  who  reflects  the 
likeness  of  Christ  the  King. 

The  words  that  immediately  follow  the  Beatitudes 
are  perhaps  more  especially  addressed  to  the  disciples 
whom  Jesus  had  only  that  morning  chosen  to  be  the  chief 
officers  of  His  Kingdom.  They  are  to  be  the  salt  that 
shall  keep  the  world  from  becoming  corrupt ;  let  them 
take  care  not  to  be  like  salt  that  has  lost  its  savour ;  in 


158  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

other  words,  let  them  keep  the  power  of  influencing  others 
for  good  by  keeping  near  to  God  themselves.  They  are 
to  be  lights,  torches  kindled  at  the  source  of  all  light, 
Jesus  Christ  Himself;  it  should  be  their  work  to  give 
light  to  the  world  and  make  it  bright  with  the  know- 
ledge and  love  of  God  ;  let  them  see  that  they  keep  their 
light  burning  and  not  allow  its  shining  to  be  hidden  or 
grow  dim.  '  Let  your  hght,'  He  bids  them,  '  so  shine 
before  men,  that  they  may  see  your  good  works,  and 
glorify  your  Father  which  is  in  Heaven.' 

After  this  Jesus  began  to  compare  the  old  law  of 
Mount  Sinai  with  the  new  law  of  the  Gospel.  He  had 
not  come,  He  said,  to  set  aside  the  old  law,  but  to  fulfil 
it,  to  bring  out  its  hidden  meaning,  to  carry  it  from  the 
outside  of  the  life  into  the  heart  and  conscience.  The 
world  of  old  had  been  taught  by  God  just  as  much  as  it 
was  able  to  learn  ;  now  the  time  had  come  for  harder  and 
deeper  lessons  to  be  put  before  it.  Religion,  Jesus  taught, 
was  not  a  thing  which  had  to  do  with  outward  actions 
only,  it  must  enter  into  and  colour  a  man's  whole  life. 

There  was  the  law  of  murder.  The  old  law  taught 
that  one  man  must  not  kill  another,  but  it  said  nothing 
about  his  hating  him  and  wishing  to  kill  him  or  do  him 
hurt.  Jesus  taught  that  it  was  not  enough  to  keep  from 
murder;  you  must  keep  from  those  bad  feelings  which 
sometimes  lead  on  to  murder;  you  must  get  rid  of  the 
angry,  revengeful  thought;  you  must  check  the  hasty, 
bitter  word.  Or  there  was  the  old  law  of  impurity. 
The  old  law  laid  down  that  it  w^as  wrong  to  be  im- 
pure in  act ;  but  Jesus  went  further,  and  said  that 
God  required  purity  of  heart,  that  the  children  of  the 
kingdom  were  to  keep  their  very  inmost  thoughts  free 
from  taint  and  defilement.  So  with  God's  other  laws, 
the  law  of  oaths,  of  repayment  of  injuries  and  the  rest ; 
they  were  to  be  kept  not  in  the  letter  but  in  the  spirit. 


THE  MOUNT  OF  BLESSING  159 

It  was  not  the  mere  words  of  the  commandment  that 
mattered  ;  you  must  go  deeper  than  the  words,  you  must 
get  at  the  meaning  that  underlay  them. 

And  then  having  compared  the  old  and  the  new  law  to- 
gether, Jesus  went  on  to  compare  the  old  and  the  new  life. 
The  life  which  people  had  grown  accustomed  to  look  upon 
as  the  highest  and  most  religious  was  the  kind  of  life  lived 
by  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  but  Jesus  said  that  the  riglit- 
eousness  of  those  who  would  enter  His  Kingdom  must 
exceed  the  righteousness  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees, 
it  must  be  of  a  different  and  an  altogether  higher  kind. 

In  the  religion  of  the  Pharisees  there  was  plenty  of 
outside  show,  but  very  little  reality.  The  right  things 
they  did,  they  did  from  a  wrong  motive ;  they  were  very 
particular  about  performing  their  religious  duties  with 
great  exactness,  but  it  was  not  through  any  real  love  to 
God  and  desire  to  please  Him,  but  rather  to  gain  credit 
for  themselves.  The  Pharisee  gave  alms,  only  he  did 
not  give  in  the  right  way.  He  parted  with  his  money, 
not  because  he  was  sorry  for  the  poor  and  the  distressed 
and  wanted  to  help  them,  but  because  he  wanted  to  gain 
a  name  for  being  generous.  He  took  care  that  every  one 
should  know  how  much  he  gave  away.  He  was  like 
an  actor  playing  a  part;  his  charity  was  all  a  pretence. 
Jesus  said  that  the  children  of  the  Kingdom  were  not  to 
give  like  this ;  when  they  gave  they  were  to  give  quietly, 
lovingly,  and  without  display.  God  would  see  what  they 
gave,  and  would  reward  the  true-hearted  giver  openly. 
Again  the  Pharisee  prayed.  He  was  very  fond  of  praying, 
only  here  again  he  was  only  acting  a  part.  He  would 
stand  in  his  long  flowing  robes  in  the  synagogue,  or  at  the 
corner  of  a  street  where  there  were  sure  to  be  plenty  of 
people  about,  and  pray  long  and  loudly,  but  always  with 
an  eye  to  effect — not  because  he  wanted  to  speak  to  God, 
but  because  he  wanted  people  to  admire  him  and  to  say, 


160  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

'  What  a  holy  man  that  is ;  what  beautiful  prayers  he 
offers  up ! '  Jesus  taught  the  children  of  the  Kingdom 
that  they  must  scorn  to  make  a  show  of  their  religion  in 
this  way.  When  they  prayed  let  them  go  aside  from  the 
busy  crowd,  and  in  the  quiet  of  their  chamber  speak  to 
the  great  God  who  is  in  secret,  and  He,  their  Father, 
whose  eyes  were  in  every  place,  would  hear  their  prayer 
and  bless  them,  so  that  the  world  could  not  fail  to  take 
knowledge  of  it/ 

Once  more,  the  Pharisee  fasted.  He  made  a  great 
parade  of  his  fasts.  On  fasting  days  he  went  about  with 
untrimmed  beard,  and  with  ashes  sprinkled  over  his  head ; 
while  his  face  wore  a  set  look  of  melancholy  and  woe.  But 
all  this  was  not  because  he  was  really  humbling  himself 
before  God  on  account  of  his  sins,  but  because  he  wanted 
people  to  imagine  he  was  doing  so.  Jesus  said  tlie  children 
of  the  Kingdom  must  fast  for  God's  eyes,  not  man's ;  the 
world  need  not  even  know  they  were  fasting  and  denying 
themselves,  it  was  enough  that  God  should  know  it. 

Though  the  Kingdom  of  Jesus  was  to  be  a  kingdom 
set  up  on  earth,  yet  in  its  character  it  was  not  to  be  an 
earthly  but  a  Heavenly  Kingdom,  and  so  the  children  of 
the  kingdom  must  be  taught  to  be  Heavenly-minded,  to 
set  their  affections  on  the  things  of  Heaven.  Accordingly 
Jesus  goes  on  to  tell  His  disciples  not  to  lay  up  treasure 
on  earth,  but  to  seek  the  true  riches.  Earthly  treasure 
does  not  last;  hoarded  coin  grows  rusty;  the  grandest 
clothes  become  moth-eaten  and  spoiled  at  last ;  a  man  is 
rich  to-day,  to-morrow  he  is  robbed  of  all.  It  is  different 
with  the  Heavenly  treasure,  that  never  spoils  nor  can  be 
taken  away.     Love  then  Heavenly  things  is  Jesus'  teach- 

^  The  Lord's  Prayer,  which  follows  here,  will  be  found  in  a  later  chapter.  It 
seems  to  have  been  given  twice  by  our  Lord  ;  once  to  the  multitude  upon  the 
mountain,  and  again  towards  the  close  of  His  ministry,  as  a  model  prayer  for 
His  disciples 


THE  MOUNT  OF  BLESSING  161 

ing ;  care  most  for  pleasing  God  and  doing  His  will,  and 
fill  up  your  lives  with  beautiful  actions  and  loving  words, 
the  tilings  that  never  die.  Remember  the  heart  follows 
the  treasure ;  if  you  lift  your  treasure  up  to  Heaven  it  will 
draw  your  heart  to  Heaven  also. 

But  is  it  not  possible  to  have  your  treasure  laid  up  on 
earth  and  in  Heaven  at  the  same  time?  'No,'  answers 
Jesus ;  '  no  man  can  serve  two  masters ;  you  must  either 
put  God  first  or  the  world  first ;  you  cannot  be  a  friend  of 
both,'  But  if  I  turn  my  back  on  the  world  and  its  ways, 
shall  I  not  be  in  danger  of  coming  to  want  ?  '  No,'  says 
Jesus  again,  '  choose  God  as  your  friend ;  trust  Him  to 
take  care  of  you.  He  is  your  loving  Father,  and  He  will 
not  let  you  want.  You  need  not  fret  about  the  future, 
or  be  over  anxious  about  the  things  which  have  to  do  with 
daily  life.  Look  at  the  birds  darting  above  your  head 
through  the  warm  spring  air,  how  happy,  how  free  from 
care  they  are ;  you  do  not  find  them  sowing  nor  reaping 
nor  gathering  into  barns,  yet  your  Heavenly  Father  feeds 
them.  Look  at  the  flowers  at  your  feet ;  not  even  the 
great  King  Solomon  in  his  royal  robes  was  ever  arrayed 
as  beautifully  as  a  flower ;  yet  the  flower  does  not  weave 
its  lovely  dress  for  itself,  it  is  God  that  gives  it  all  its 
beauty  of  form  and  colouring.  If  then  God  cares  for 
the  birds,  if  He  clothes  the  little  anemone  with  its  scarlet 
cloak,  and  decks  the  amaryllis  with  a  crown  of  gold,  will 
He  not  much  more  feed  and  clothe  you,  who  are  so  much 
better  and  dearer  to  Him  than  either  birds  or  flowers? 
Only  make  God  and  the  things  of  God  your  chief  concern 
and  you  may  safely  leave  all  the  rest  to  Him.' 

And  now  having  spoken  of  the  debt  of  love  and  trust 
which  the  children  of  the  Kingdom  owe  their  Heavenly 
Father,  Jesus  adds  a  word  about  the  way  they  should  look 
upon  and  treat  one  another.     They  must  not  be  fault- 

L 


162  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

finders,  in  a  hurry  to  judge  or  condemn.  Those  who  are 
always  on  the  look-out  for  the  faults  of  others,  and  are 
hard  and  severe  upon  them,  must  expect  to  be  severely 
treated  themselves  by  God.  First  look  at  home,  is  Jesus' 
advice ;  find  your  own  faults  out ;  when  you  have  got  rid 
of  your  own  great  faults  it  will  be  time  enough  to  think 
of  the  lesser  faults  of  your  neighbours.  Think  how  good 
God  is  to  you,  hearing  your  prayers,  giving  you  the 
things  you  need,  befriending  you  in  all  kinds  of  ways. 
Because  God  is  good  to  you,  be  good  in  your  turn  to  others. 
Treat  them  as  you  would  wish  to  be  treated  yourself 

This  commandment  of  Jesus  is  called  the  golden  rule. 
It  is  really  one  of  the  most  important  rules  of  the  King- 
dom. '  The  perfect  working  of  this  rule  everywhere  would 
make  Heaven,'  it  has  been  said,  and  it  is  true ;  for  if  every 
one  were  as  considerate  and  thoughtful  for  the  welfare  and 
happiness  of  others  as  he  is  about  himself,  there  would  be 
no  quarrelling  or  bad  feeling,  no  wrong  or  oppression ;  the 
will  of  God  would  then  be  done  by  men  as  it  is  done  by  the 
holy  angels. 

Before  bringing  His  sermon  to  a  close,  Jesus  spoke  of 
the  choice  of  the  two  roads.  There  were  two  roads.  He 
taught,  through  the  world — the  hard  and  narrow  way  of 
service  and  the  cross,  and  the  broad  and  easy  road  of  self- 
pleasing  and  of  sin.  Each  of  these  two  ways  had  a  gate 
of  entrance,  the  one  strait  (or  narrow),  and  the  other 
wide. 

But  because  the  entrance  gate  was  narrow,  and  so  shut 
out  many  of  the  joys  of  life,  and  because  the  way  itself 
was  straitened  and  hard  to  tread,  those  who  found  the 
Heavenly  way  of  service  were  few  in  number.  On  the 
other  hand  the  path  of  self-pleasing  had  no  lack  of  travel- 
lers because  it  was  so  smooth  and  broad,  and  because  as 
one  entered  through  its  gate  there  was  nothing  that  need 


THE  MOUNT  OF  BLESSING  1G3 

be  left  behind.  Yet  it  was  the  way  of  service  which  the 
children  of  the  Kingdom  must  choose ;  they  must  strive, 
they  must  do  their  utmost  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate, 
for  the  narrow  way  to  which  it  led  was  the  way  of  life,  it 
was  the  King's  highway  and  led  up  to  God,  whereas  the 
broad  and  easy  path  led  away  from  Him  and  ended  in 
darkness  and  death — 

'  Oh,  what  is  this  pathway  white,  with  parapets  of  light. 
Whose  slender  links  go  up,  go  up,  and  meet  in  Heaven  high  ? 
'Tis  the  Road  of  the  Loving  Heart  from  earth  to  sky. 

*  Who  made  the  beautiful  road  ?     It  was  the  Son  of  God, 
Of  Mary  born  in  Bethlehem.     He  planned  it  first,  and  then 
Up  the  Road  of  the  Loving  Heart  He  led  all  men. 

'  Was  it  not  hard  to  build  ?     Yes,  all  His  years  were  filled 
With  labour,  but  He  counted  not  the  cost  nor  was  afraid ; 
No  Road  of  the  Loving  Heart  is  cheaply  made.' 

And  now  before  sending  the  multitude  away  Jesus 
gives  them  one  last  word  of  solemn  warning.  He  had 
been  speaking  and  they  had  been  listening;  He  had 
laid  down  the  laws  of  His  Kingdom,  and  described  the 
character  that  the  children  of  the  Kingdom  must  strive 
to  attain.  But  it  was  not  enough  to  hear ;  the  hearers 
must  become  doers.  The  sermon  had  been  preached,  now 
it  must  be  practised ;  and  so  He  ends  with  the  parable  of 
the  two  houses. 

There  were  two  men  who,  each  of  them,  set  about 
building  a  house  for  himself.  The  one  laid  the  founda- 
tion of  his  dwelling  on  a  rock,  the  other  on  the  shifting 
sand.  One  night  a  great  storm  arose,  the  rain  descended, 
the  floods  came,  and  the  winds  blew  and  beat  upon  the 
houses.  But  while  the  house  that  was  built  upon  the 
rock  remained  unshaken,  the  house  that  was  built  on  the 


164  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

sand  collapsed,  fell  to  pieces,  and  became  a  ruin.  Jesus 
said  that  those  who  heard  His  sayings  and  did  them  were 
like  the  wise  builder,  while  those  who  heard  and  did  not 
were  like  the  foolish  one.  Take  care  how  you  build,  He 
seems  to  say  to  us  in  this  parable.  You  have  each  got  to 
build  your  life  up  for  yourselves,  see  first  of  all  that  you 
get  your  foundations  right.  Let  your  life  rest  upon  My 
teaching  as  on  a  rock.  Then  in  the  day  of  storm,  wind, 
and  tempest,  when  temptation  assails  you  and  earth's 
trials  test  your  steadfastness  to  the  uttermost,  the  house 
of  your  life  will  stand  strong  and  immovable — otherwise 
it  will  only  fall  and  crumble  into  ruins. 

*And  it  came  to  pass,'  we  read,  *when  Jesus  had 
ended  these  sayings,  the  people  were  astonished  at  His 
doctrine  (or  teaching) :  for  He  taught  them  as  one  having 
authority,  and  not  as  the  Scribes.' 


IX 


THE      CRIPPLE      AT     THE      HOUSE     OF     MERCY — HOW     THE 

DISCIPI.es       plucked       THE      EARS      OF      CORN THE 

STONE-MASON     WITH     THE     WITHERED      HAND THE 

ROMAN    SOLDIER   AND    HIS    SICK    SLAVE — HOW   JESUS 
RAISED    A    DEAD    MAN    TO    LIFE    AT    PI>EASANT    NAIN 

It  was  the  time  of  one  of  the  feasts,  and  Jesus  left 
Capernaum  to  go  once  more  to  the  Holy  City.  While 
at  Jerusalem  He  worked  another  wonderful  miracle. 

He  was  passing  by  the  Sheep  Gate,  where  the  cattle 
for  the  Temple  sacrifices  were  bought  and  sold.  Close  to 
this  gate  lay  a  pool  of  water  known  as  Bethesda,  or  the 
House  of  Mercy,  because  of  the  wonderful  healing  powers 
its  waters  were  supposed  to  possess.  The  pool  was  fed 
by  a  spring  which,  after  ceasing  to  flow  perhaps  for  a  long 
time,  would  suddenly  begin  to  bubble  up  ;  and  when  this 
happened  the  people  used  to  think  that  an  angel  was 
moving  upon  the  waters.  At  such  times  they  would 
bring  their  sick  and  dip  them  into  the  pool,  in  the  belief 
that  while  the  rush  of  water  lasted  the  pool  had  the 
magic  power  of  healing  disease. 

A  stone  arcade  had  been  built  about  the  pool,  with 
five  chambers,  each  with  steps  running  down  into  the 
water.  At  the  time  when  Jesus  passed  by,  the  building 
was  crowded  with  sick  people,  eagerly  waiting  their 
chance  of  being  cured. 

Among  the  crowd  of  sufferers,  the  blind,  the  lame,  and 


166  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

the  paralysed,  Jesus'  eye  singled  out  one  man,  a  cripple, 
stretched  upon  his  pallet,  and  only  just  able  to  move. 
For  thirty- eight  years  he  had  been  in  that  sad  state. 
The  doctors  had  long  given  him  up;  one  by  one  his 
friends  had  dropped  away ;  and  as  he  lay  there,  helpless 
and  uncared  for,  there  was  perhaps  no  more  miserable, 
despairing  heart  in  all  Jerusalem. 

Jesus  knew  what  a  long  time  the  sick  man  had  been 
laid  by,  and  was  sorry  for  him.  He  knew  too  that  his 
sickness  had  been  brought  about  by  sin ;  but  He  was 
going  to  give  him  the  chance  of  redeeming  his  evil  past. 
Would  he  like  to  be  healed  ?  He  asks  him. 

Ah  !  how  the  sick  man  would  like  it.  That  is  the  one 
thing  he  has  been  longing  and  praying  for,  all  these  long 
and  weary  years.  What  would  he  not  give  to  have  his 
health  and  strength  restored  ?  But  alas  !  he  is  friendless. 
He  has  no  one  to  carry  him  down  to  the  pool  when  the 
water  begins  to  stir,  and  by  the  time  he  has  dragged 
himself  to  the  steps,  the  swirl  of  the  water  has  ceased ; 
the  angel  has  taken  flight ;  it  is  too  late. 

'  Rise,  take  up  thy  bed,  and  walk,'  comes  Jesus'  voice, 
and  the  man  looks  up,  and  as  he  gazes  into  Jesus'  face  his 
dull  despondent  look  is  changed  to  one  of  wondering  joy. 
He  believes  in  Jesus'  power ;  he  rises  to  his  feet,  takes  up 
his  sleeping-mat,  and  leaves  the  House  of  Mercy,  cured. 

Jesus  afterwards  met  the  man  He  had  healed,  in  the 
Temple,  whither  he  had  gone,  no  doubt,  to  thank  God  for 
his  cure.  He  spoke  kindly  to  him  and  urged  him  to  for- 
sake his  sins  and  to  lead  a  better  life,  lest  God  should 
send  him  an  even  worse  punishment  than  before. 

Now  it  was  the  Sabbath  day  when  Jesus  healed  the 
crippled  man,  and  the  rulers  of  the  Jews  were  shocked  at 
the  sight  of  a  man  carrying  his  sleeping-mat  in  the  open 
street.     No  one  might  carry  any  burden  on  the  Sabbath 


JESUS  AND  THE  SABBATH  DAY        167 

day.  A  man  was  not  even  allowed  to  carry  money  in  his 
pocket  or  a  stick  in  his  hand.  A  tailor  might  not  go  out 
with  a  needle  on  Friday  afternoon,  in  case  he  forgot  to  lay 
it  aside  before  the  Sabbath  drew  on.  Even  a  cock  might 
not  wear  a  rag  round  its  leg,  or  an  ass  carry  its  bell  when 
being  led  to  water.  Imagine  then  the  anger  of  these 
people  when  they  found  out  that  Jesus  had  given  the 
man  permission  to  carry  his  bed.  Who  was  this  new 
teacher  that  He  should  set  their  Sabbath  rules  at  defiance 
in  this  way  ?  Still  more  angry  were  they,  when,  in  answer 
to  their  complaints  Jesus  claimed  the  right  of  doing  acts 
of  mercy  and  love  on  the  Sabbath  day  as  well  as  on  any 
other,  because,  as  He  said.  He  was  the  Son  of  God,  Him- 
self the  Greatest  of  all  Workers,  who  never  for  a  single 
instant  ceased  to  work  for  His  children's  good. 

From  this  time  forth  the  Jewish  rulers  began  to  plot 
against  Jesus.  He  was  evidently  a  dangerous  teacher, 
who  if  He  got  His  way  would  turn  everything  upside 
down.  Already  He  had  begun  to  undermine  their 
authority ;  by  and  by  He  would  win  the  people  over  to 
His  side,  and  then  their  position  and  authority  would  be 
lost.  Could  they  not  get  rid  of  Him  before  His  power 
became  too  great  ? 

Sad  at  heart,  Jesus  went  back  to  Galilee.  And  now 
again  it  was  the  Sabbath  day,  and  the  Master  and  His 
disciples,  having  attended  service  at  the  syna^rogue,  were 
making  their  way  homewards  through  the  wheatfields. 
All  was  quiet  and  peaceful.  The  blue  of  the  Sabbath  sky 
was  above  their  heads,  and  the  sunshine  lay  upon  hill  and 
valley  like  the  smile  of  God,  brightening  the  fair  green 
stretches  of  the  countryside  and  turning  to  gold  the 
fields  of  yellowing  corn,  through  which  they  passed. 

Hungry,  and  with  perhaps  no  prospect  of  getting 
other  food  to  eat,  the  disciples  began  to  pluck  the  ears  of 


168  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

corn  and  to  rub  them  in  their  hands.  No  sooner,  how- 
ever, had  they  begun  to  do  this  than  a  company  of  Jewish 
spies,  who  had  followed  them  in  the  hope  of  catching 
Jesus  tripping,  darted  out  upon  them  and  began  to  accuse 
them  of  Sabbath-breaking. 

The  law  was  merciful  enough  to  allow  a  hungry 
traveller  to  pluck  a  handful  of  corn  ears,  or  even  to 
gather  a  bunch  of  grapes,  as  he  passed  along  on  his  way, 
only  he  must  not  do  it  on  the  Sabbath.  The  Jews  taught 
that  to  pluck  corn  on  the  Sabbath  day  was  really  to  reap 
it,  and  to  rub  it  in  the  hands  was  a  kind  of  threshing, 
and  to  reap  and  thresh  on  the  Sabbath  day  was  a  sin 
worthy  of  stoning. 

Now  Jesus  loved  and  honoured  God's  day,  and  taught 
His  disciples  to  love  and  honour  it  as  well,  but  to  treat  it 
as  the  Jews  treated  it,  was.  He  knew,  the  very  way  to 
degrade  and  bring  it  into  contempt.  And  so  in  answer  to 
the  angry  words  of  the  spies.  He  told  them  that  they  were 
doing  their  best  to  spoil  God's  beautiful  gift.  God  had 
given  them  the  Sabbath  day  to  be  a  blessing  and  a  help 
to  them,  and  not  that  it  should  be  turned  into  a  burden 
and  a  snare.  He  also  told  them  that  He  was  the  Lord  ot 
the  Sabbath,  and  so  the  only  proper  judge  as  to  the  right 
way  of  keeping  it.  Soon  after  this  Jesus  was  again 
attacked  by  the  Jews,  because,  as  they  thought,  He  broke 
the  Sabbath  day. 

He  was  in  the  synagogue — perhaps  the  beautiful 
white  marble  synagogue  of  Capernaum — and  He  noticed, 
among  the  poorer  people  crowded  together  at  the  door,  a 
man  who  had  a  withered  hand.  An  old  legend  tells  us 
that  the  man  was  a  stone-mason,  and  that,  having  lost  the 
use  of  his  hand,  he  was  no  longer  able  to  work  at  his 
trade.  In  his  distress,  and  to  save  him  from  the  disgrace 
of  becoming  a  beggar,  he  had  come  to  seek  Jesus'  aid. 


THE  MAN  WITH  THE  WITHERED  HAND     109 

The  Scribes  and  Pluirisees  had  noticed  this  man  as  well, 
and  were  eagerly  watcliing  to  see  whether  he  would  catch 
Jesus'  eye  and  attract  his  pity ;  not  because  they  were 
sorry  for  the  suil'erer,  but  because  they  hoped  Jesus  would 
heal  him,  and  so  enable  them  to  bring  another  charge 
against  Him  of  breaking  the  Sabbath  day. 

For  this  was  another  of  the  hard  rules  with  which  the 
Jews  had  fenced  about  the  Sabbath.  No  one  was  to  take 
medicine,  no  one  was  to  relieve  a  fellow-sufferer,  unless  it 
was  a  case  of  life  and  death. 

Jesus  knew  He  was  being  watched ;  He  knew  His 
enemies  were  trying  to  catch  Him  in  a  trap ;  but  He  was 
not  one  to  be  frightened  out  of  doing  what  was  right, 
because  there  was  a  lion  in  the  way.  He  always  trod  the 
straight  path,  and  trod  it  unafraid  and  with  the  step  of  a 
King,  no  matter  how  full  of  danger  it  might  be. 

'  Stand  forth,'  came  His  command  ;  and  the  man  with 
the  withered  hand  came  forward  and  stood  before  Him. 
And  then  Jesus  put  a  question  to  His  enemies,  '  Is  it 
lawful  to  do  good  on  the  Sabbath  days,  or  to  do  evil  ?  to 
save  life,  or  to  destroy  it  ? ' 

Surely  there  could  be  but  one  answer  to  a  question 
like  this  ?  Any  really  noble  heart  would  say  that  it  was 
a  good  and  not  an  evil  thing  to  have  mercy  upon  a  poor 
afflicted  sufferer,  and  give  him  back  the  power  of  earning 
his  daily  bread.  Was  not  a  man  better  than  a  sheep  ? 
and  who  would  not  go  to  the  help  even  of  a  sheep,  if  it 
should  fall  into  a  pit  on  the  Sabbath  day  ?  But  Jesus 
got  no  answer  to  His  question,  and  when,  on  looking 
round  for  signs  of  relenting.  He  saw  instead  nothing  but 
scowling,  wrathful  looks  bent  upon  Him,  He  was  filled 
with  grief  and  indignation.  What  could  be  made  of  such 
men  as  these,  without  a  spark  of  common  pity  or  touch 
of  human  love  ? 


170  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

'Stretch  forth  thine  hand,'  He  says  to  the  man  before 
Him,  and  the  poor  stone-mason  obeys.  He  does  not 
say, '  O  Lord,  I  cannot.  See  !  my  hand  is  withered.'  He 
has  faith  in  Jesus'  power ;  he  makes  the  effort,  and  with 
the  effort  comes  the  strength,  'And  his  hand  was  restored 
whole  as  the  other.' 

Meanwhile  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  were  '  filled  with 
madness,'  St.  Luke  tells  us,  since  Jesus  had  once  more 
put  them  in  the  wrong.  So  great  was  their  anger  that 
they  went  out  and  joined  forces  with  their  enemies  the 
Herodians — followers  of  Herod  the  King,  whom  they 
hated  and  despised — in  order  to  gain  their  help  in  putting 
Jesus  to  death. 

We  saw  that  the  white  marble  synagogue  of 
Capernaum  was  the  gift  of  a  Roman  officer,  the 
Centurion  who  commanded  the  soldiers  stationed  in 
the  town.  The  Romans  as  a  rule  looked  with  suspicion 
and  dislike  upon  the  Jews,  who  repaid  their  contempt 
with  bitter  hatred. 

But  the  Centurion  seems  to  have  found  much  to  love 
in  the  people,  among  whom  his  lot  had  been  cast.  He 
did  not  treat  them  in  any  harsh,  overbearing  fashion ;  on 
the  contrary,  he  showed  them  many  marks  of  kindness, 
and  in  return  he  had  won  their  gratitude  and  esteem. 

In  Rome  he  had  been  a  heathen,  a  worshipper  of 
Jupiter  and  INIars  and  Vulcan,  and  all  the  other  Roman 
gods,  but  since  he  had  been  stationed  at  Capernaum  he 
had  learned  to  believe  in  the  One  True  God,  and  had 
turned  his  back  on  his  idols. 

Living  at  Capernaum  as  he  did,  he  must  often  have 
heard  of  Jesus,  and  no  doubt  had  seen  Him  as  well;  and 
if  so,  the  face  and  bearing  of  Jesus  would  make  a  great 
impression  on  him.  As  a  Roman  soldier  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  look  on  the  faces  of  great  men,  for  the  men  he 


THE  CENTURION'S  SERVANT  171 

served  were  the  masters  of  the  world  ;  but  a  ghmce  at 
Jesus'  face  would  tell  him  that  good  and  noble  and  heroic 
as  many  of  these  great  leaders  were,  here  was  a  Leader 
of  men,  greater,  better,  nobler  far  than  they.  And  so, 
when  the  time  came  for  him  to  need  a  friend's  hand,  he 
at  once  thought  of  Jesus. 

Just  as  in  the  case  of  the  nobleman,  it  was  sickness 
which  led  him  to  Jesus,  the  sickness  of  one  he  loved. 
He  had  a  slave,  a  lad  maybe,  who  had  been  stolen  away 
from  some  ftir-distant  land,  or  had  been  captured  in  battle. 
Brought  up  at  his  side,  the  boy  had  grown  dear  to  him 
almost  as  a  son ;  and  now  he  was  sick  and  ready  to  die. 
•Ah  !  if  Jesus  could  only  be  got  to  lend  His  aid,'  thinks 
the  good  Centurion,  '  I  should  save  my  dear  lad  yet.' 

And  so,  because  he  is  too  humble-minded  to  go  him- 
self, he  sends  for  the  Jewish  elders  and  entreats  them  to 
go  and  find  Jesus  for  him  and  beseech  His  help.  And 
they  come  to  Jesus  and  tell  Him  of  the  Centurion's 
trouble,  and  how  kind  and  good  and  generous  a  friend  he 
had  been  to  them,  and  beg  Him  to  come  and  heal  the 
dying  lad.  And  Jesus  answers  simply,  '  I  will  come 
and  heal  him.' 

But  before  He  reaches  the  house,  the  Centurion,  to 
whom  the  glad  news,  *  Jesus  is  coming,'  has  already  been 
brought,  hastily  sends  out  friends  to  meet  the  Lord,  and 
entreat  Him  to  come  no  further.  He  was  not  worthy, 
he  said,  that  Jesus  should  come  under  his  roof.  Let  Him 
but  speak  the  word,  and  his  servant  would  be  healed. 
*  For  I  also,'  he  went  on  to  say,  '  am  a  man  set  under 
autliority,  having  under  me  soldiers,  and  I  say  unto  one. 
Go,  and  he  goeth  ;  and  to  another,  Come,  and  he  cometh ; 
and  to  my  servant,  Do  this,  and  he  doeth  it' 

What  did  he  mean  by  these  words  ?  I  think  he  meant 
something  like  this — I  am  not  a  soldier  of  the  highest 


172  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

rank,  but  yet  I  have  men  under  me  to  carry  out  my 
wishes.  If  I  want  a  thing  done,  I  need  not  go  myself 
to  do  it ;  I  have  only  to  give  my  orders  to  a  soldier 
and  he  carries  them  out.  If  I,  a  poor  Centurion  with 
only  a  few  soldiers  to  command,  have  such  power;  how 
much  greater  power  must  you  have,  who  are  the  Son  of 
God  and  commander  of  many  legions  of  angels  ?  You 
need  not  come  to  my  house  to  spread  your  hands  upon 
my  dying  slave.  You  need  only  speak  the  word,  and  the 
Angel  of  Death  who  is  hovering  over  my  house  will  take 
his  flight,  and  the  Angel  of  Life  will  enter  in  with  healing 
in  his  wings. 

When  Jesus  heard  this  He  was  astonished,  and 
turning  to  the  crowd  that  had  begun  to  gather  around 
Him,  He  told  them  that  it  had  been  left  to  a  Roman 
soldier  and  a  foreigner  to  show  a  faith  in  Him  such  as 
none  of  His  own  people  had  ever  shown.  And  because 
of  their  faith,  He  went  on  to  say,  God  would  gather 
many  Gentiles  like  this  Centurion  into  His  Heavenly 
Kingdom ;  while  because  of  their  unbelief  the  children  of 
the  kingdom,  His  own  chosen  people,  should  be  cast  out 
into  the  darkness.  Then  speaking  to  the  messengers,  He 
bids  them  go  tell  the  Centurion  that  it  should  be  done 
unto  him  according  to  his  faith.  And  when  they  returned 
they  found  the  Angel  of  Death  flown,  and  the  sick  lad 
restored  again  to  health. 

We  do  not  hear  anything  more  of  the  good  Centurion. 
Did  he  after  this  take  Jesus  for  his  Captain  and  join  the 
ranks  of  the  soldiers  of  the  Cross  ?  We  do  not  know, 
but  we  like  to  think  so.  In  any  case  the  words  which 
one  of  the  old  Fathers  of  the  Church,  St.  Augustine,  said 
of  him  are  well  deserved:  '  In  declaring  himself  unworthy 
that  Christ  should  enter  his  house,  he  proved  himself 
worthy  that  Christ  should  enter  his  heart.' 


THE  MIRACLE  AT  NAIN  173 

The  day  after,  we  find  Jesus  and  His  disciples  at  a 
little  village  called  Nain.  Nain  was  about  twenty-three 
miles  from  Capernaum,  and  to  reach  it  Jesus  would  either 
travel  the  whole  distance  on  foot,  or  else,  rising  early  in 
the  morning,  He  would  take  boat  and  sail  across  the  blue 
waters  of  the  lake  in  the  direction  of  the  pleasure  city  of 
Tiberias ;  afterwards  landing  lower  down  and  making 
His  way  southwards  along  the  great  Damascus  road. 

By  and  by  He  would  reach  a  little  cluster  of  green  hills, 
which  sloped  down  to  the  plain  through  which  the  road  He 
was  travelling  ran.  There,  perched  up  high  on  the  hill- 
side, a  splash  of  white  against  the  green,  the  little  village 
could  be  plainly  seen  nestling  among  its  trees. 

The  modern  Nain,  travellers  tell  us,  is  only  a  collection 
of  miserable  huts,  but  in  Jesus'  day  it  must  have  been 
a  fair  and  pleasant  spot.  The  very  name  tells  us  this,  for 
the  word  Nain  means  '  beautiful,'  and  it  had  won  its  name, 
no  doubt,  because  of  its  lovely  situation,  its  bright  and 
shady  gardens,  and  fruitful  orchards  where  '  the  vines 
with  the  tender  grape  give  a  good  smell.' 

But  to-day,  in  spite  of  the  sunshine  and  the  flowers 
and  the  joy  of  spring,  pleasant  Nain  was  plunged  in  gloom 
and  sadness.  A  young  man  had  died  that  very  morning, 
the  only  son  of  a  widowed  mother ;  and  as  Jesus  and  His 
disciples  were  ascending  the  hill,  the  funeral  procession 
was  coming  out  of  the  gate.  It  was  a  very  long  proces- 
sion as  well  as  a  sad  one,  for  the  young  man  had  many 
friends,  and  nearly  the  whole  village  had  turned  out  to 
show  the  sympathy  and  respect  they  felt  for  the  poor 
desolate  mother,  in  the  hour  of  her  anguish  and  distress. 

There,  in  front  of  the  bier,  she  was  walking  with  bent 
head  and  streaming  eyes — the  mother  mourning  for  her 
only  son ;  while  her  neighbours  pressed  around  her, 
mingling  their  tears  with   hers.     And  all  the  while,  as 


174  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE   OF  JESUS 

the  procession  wound  its  way  along,  cymbals  clashed 
and  the  flutes  gave  out  their  melancholy  wail,  and  the 
shrieks  of  the  hired  mourners  rent  the  air. 

At  last  the  funeral  train  reached  the  spot  where  Jesus 
stood;  and  as  He  saw  the  weeping  mother  go  by  with 
bowed  head  and  uncertain  step,  His  heart  was  stirred 
with  pity.  Perhaps  He  thought  of  His  own  dear  mother, 
and  how  soon  she  would  be  weeping  over  a  dead  body  on 
its  way  to  burial !  Stepping  forward,  '  Weep  not,'  He 
gently  says,  while  all  gaze  at  Him  in  wonder. 

Was  it  not  a  strange  thing  to  say  ?  Had  she  not  good 
cause  to  weep  ?  What  could  He  mean,  this  '  fair-haired, 
sad -eyed  Stranger,  with  the  red  dust  upon  His  feet 
and  clothes '  ?  As  the  mourners  ask  one  another  the 
question  in  astonishment,  Jesus  lays  His  hand  upon  the 
bier,  and  at  His  touch  the  bearers  lower  the  wicker-work 
coffin  to  the  ground,  and  there,  brought  face  to  face  with 
the  Lord  of  Life,  the  dead  man  lies ;  his  body  framed  in 
boughs  of  myrtle ;  his  face  uncovered ;  his  hands  folded 
on  his  breast. 

What  a  solemn  moment  that  must  have  been.  A  hush 
falls  upon  the  crowd ;  every  one  wonders  what  is  coming 
next. 

Then  Jesus  speaks,  and  His  voice  is  like  the  sound  of 
many  waters, '  Young  man,  I  say  unto  thee,  Arise.' 

And  at  His  words  the  spirit  comes  back  to  the  lifeless 
body.  The  young  man  sits  up,  looks  around  him,  and 
begins  to  speak.  The  next  moment  he  is  in  his  mother's 
arms. 

Dear  child,  you  remember  how  I  told  you  that  Jesus' 
work  in  healing  men's  bodies,  was  meant  to  picture  to  us 
His  even  more  wonderful  work  in  healing  their  souls. 
When  He  cured  the  leper  by  a  touch,  it  was  to  show  us 
His  power  to  cure  the  awful  leprosy  of  sin  which  spreads 


THE  MIRACLE  AT  NAIN  175 

and  spreads  until  it  causes  death,  and  separates  us  from 
God  and  our  home  in  Heaven.  When  He  gave  the  poor 
paralysed  man  power  to  take  up  his  bed  and  walk,  it  was 
to  show  again  that  He  can  give  power  to  those  unable  to 
serve  God,  making  them  strong  to  follow  the  right  and 
fight  manfully  under  His  banner  against  sin,  the  world, 
and  the  devil. 

So  here,  when  Jesus  raised  the  dead  man  to  life,  it 
was  His  way  of  showing  that  He  has  power  to  raise  even 
dead  souls  to  life  again.  It  was  a  kind  of  message  to  the 
world  that  no  one  need  despair  of  forgiveness,  but  that 
there  was  hope  even  for  the  worst. 

There  is  an  old  legend  which  tells  us  how  a  man  who 
had  spent  his  whole  life  in  sin  and  wickedness  at  last 
repented  and  went  about  seeking  some  one  to  absolve 
him.  But  so  awful  had  been  his  crimes  that  priest  and 
bishop  alike,  as  they  heard  his  story,  turned  from  him  with 
horror  and  loathing.  And  so  the  wretched  man  wandered 
from  shrine  to  shrine  and  from  country  to  country,  until 
he  came  to  the  Pope  himself.  The  Pope  was  sitting  in 
his  garden,  when,  with  wild  eyes  and  haggard  face,  the 
man  burst  through  the  guards  and  fell  at  his  feet  and 
began  to  pour  out  his  story  of  wrongdoing.  But  before 
he  had  got  far,  the  Pope  arose  with  a  shudder  and  a  cry, 
and,  thrusting  his  staff  into  the  ground,  told  the  despairing 
sinner  that  as  soon  would  that  dry  staff  come  to  life  again 
as  that  such  a  monster  would  be  forgiven.  Next  day,  as 
the  Pope  walked  in  his  garden,  he  looked  for  his  staff,  and 
lo  !  it  had  taken  root  and  had  budded  into  leaf  and  flower, 
*  and  he  saw  that  there  was  pardon  through  the  Precious 
Blood  of  Christ,  even  for  the  vilest  sinners.' 

Let  us  learn  that  lesson  too.  I^et  us  learn  to  hope 
for  all  poor,  lost  souls,  and  to  pray  that,  by  God's  mercy, 
they  may  even  yet  meet  Jesus  on  the  way,  and  hearing 


176  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

His  voice  be  raised  up  from  the  death  of  sin  to  the  life 
of  righteousness.  '  For  God  sent  not  His  Son  into  the 
world  to  condemn  the  world  ;  but  that  the  world  through 
Him  might  be  saved.'  And  again,  'This  is  a  faithful 
saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Christ  Jesus 
came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners.' 


X 


ST.  JOHN  IN  THE  BLACK  CASTLE— THE  MURDER  IN  THE 
DUNGEON— SIMON  THE  PHARISEE  AND  THE  WOMAN 
WHO    WAS    A    SINNER 

When  we  last  heard  of  St.  John  the  Baptist  he  was 
at  Bethabara  beyond  Jordan,  preaching  the  coming  of 
the  kingdom,  and  pointing  out  Jesus  to  his  disciples  as 
the  Lamb  of  God.  When  we  next  hear  of  him  he  is 
a  prisoner  in  a  dungeon. 

It  had  come  about  in  this  way.  Herod  the  king,  son 
of  the  murderer  of  the  Innocents,  had  married  his  brother 
Phihp's  wife,  and  St.  John  had  dared  to  rebuke  him  for 
his  wickedness.  It  is  a  dangerous  thing  to  rebuke  kings, 
and  Herod  in  his  anger,  and  stirred  up  and  encouraged 
by  his  wife,  had  sent  and  shut  up  the  fearless  prophet  in 
the  Black  Castle  of  Machaerus,  a  dark  and  gloomy  fortress 
overlooking  the  waters  of  the  Dead  Sea. 

You  may  have  seen  a  captive  eagle  in  a  cage.  It  is 
one  of  the  saddest  of  sights.  And  St.  John  behind  the 
bars  of  his  prison  was  just  like  a  caged  eagle.  He  had 
been  accustomed  all  his  life  to  the  wild  and  savage  life 
of  the  desert ;  to  wander  where  he  would  beneath  the 
stars,  unfettered  as  a  bird,  free  as  the  desert  air.  And 
now,  at  a  stroke,  his  liberty  was  taken  from  him  ;  he 
was  snatched  away  from  the  open  sky  and  the  wide  and 
boundless  stretches  of  the  desert,  and  plunged  into  the 
darkness  of  a  narrow  cell,  to  suffer  an  imprisonment 
almost  worse  than  death. 

M 


178  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

No  wonder,  as  the  days  passed  by,  the  heart  of  the 
brave  prophet  grew  very  heavy,  and  the  gloom  of  the 
dungeon  seemed  to  enter  into  his  very  soul.  What,  he 
wondered,  was  Jesus  doing?  St.  John's  disciples  had 
visited  their  master  in  prison,  and  he  had  listened  eagerly 
to  the  news  they  brought  of  Jesus  and  the  wonderful 
miracles  He  was  working  in  Galilee.  Why,  oh  why, 
had  his  JNIaster  left  him  to  eat  out  his  heart  in  this 
dreadful  place,  when  he  was  longing  to  be  out  and  at 
work,  shaking  out  the  folds  of  God's  banner  once  more 
in  the  wilderness  and  gathering  in  fresh  soldiers  for  the 
King  ?  Why  did  not  Jesus  show  His  power  by  setting 
His  standard-bearer  free  ? 

So  heartsick  and  desperate  did  St.  John  at  last 
become,  that  he  summoned  two  of  his  disciples  and  sent 
them  to  Galilee  to  find  Jesus  and  ask  Him  this  plain 
question :  '  Art  thou  He  that  should  come,  or  do  we 
look  for  another?  If  you  are  really  the  Christ,  why 
do  you  not  act  like  the  Christ.  If  you  are  the  King, 
why  do  you  not  begin  your  reign  in  earnest  by  over- 
throwing tyranny  and  righting  the  wrong  ? ' 

Jesus  was  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  sick  people  when 
St.  John's  disciples  drew  near,  and  instead  of  answering 
them  at  once  He  laid  His  hands  on  some  of  these  sick 
folk  and  healed  them.  He  then  spoke  to  the  disciples 
and  bade  them  go  and  tell  John  what  they  had  seen  and 
heard ;  how  '  the  blind  receive  their  sight,  and  the  lame 
walk,  the  lepers  are  cleansed,  and  the  deaf  hear,  the  dead 
are  raised  up,  and  the  poor  have  the  Gospel  preached 
to  them ' — the  very  works  the  old  prophet  Isaiah  had 
foretold  should  attend  the  Christ  when  He  came. 

This  would  show  St.  John  that  He  was  indeed  the 
promised  Deliverer.  Only  St.  John  must  learn  to  trust 
Him  ;  to  have  patience  and  not  lose  faith.     Blessed  were 


ST.  JOHN  IN  THE  BLACK  CASTLE         179 

they  whose  faith  in  Him  stood  firm,  even  though  He 
miglit  not  show  forth  His  power  and  glory  in  the  way 
they  expected  Him  to  do. 

After  St.  John's  disciples  were  gone  away,  Jesus  spoke 
to  the  crowd  in  glowing  words  about  the  Baptist.  He 
told  the  people  how  strong  and  brave  and  self-denying 
he  was.  He  was,  He  said,  no  feathery  reed  by  the  water- 
side, swayed  hither  and  thither  by  any  wind  that  blew  ; 
no  ease-loving,  pleasure-seeking  man  like  those  who  hung 
about  King  Herod's  court.  He  was  a  prophet,  yes,  and 
more  than  a  prophet.  He  was  none  other  than  the  fore- 
runner of  the  Christ  Himself;  and  never  in  the  history 
of  the  world  had  there  arisen  a  greater  or  nobler  soul 
than  he. 

*  And  yet,'  He  added,  '  he  that  is  least  in  the  King- 
dom of  Heaven  is  greater  than  St.  John.'  The  poorest 
and  humblest  of  Christ's  disciples,  that  is  to  say,  the 
feeble,  white-haired  old  man,  the  poor  peasant  woman, 
the  little  innocent  child  —  all  who  should  hereafter 
be  gathered  into  His  Church,  should  be  counted 
greater  than  the  Baptist.  They  should  be  greater 
because  Heavenly  truths  hidden  from  him  should  be 
revealed  to  them;  and  because  of  the  great  gift  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  which  should  give  them  the  power  of 
climbing  heights  of  holiness  which  even  he  had  never 
climbed.  And  this  mention  of  St.  John  led  Jesus  to 
complain  of  the  way  in  which  St.  John's  message  and 
His  own  had  been  received  by  the  Jews.  The  little 
Jewish  boys  and  girls  used  often  to  play  together  at 
funerals  and  weddings  in  the  streets  and  market-places 
of  Galilee,  and  Jesus  said  that  the  people  of  His  day 
were  like  a  band  of  discontented  children,  who  would 
not  play  at  either  funerals  or  weddings,  and  indeed  found 
fault  with  whatever   games   their  companions  proposed. 


180  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

The  Jews,  He  said,  disliked  St.  John,  and  called  him 
mad  because  he  was  so  stern  and  severe  and  lived  apart 
from  all  the  joys  of  life.  And  yet  when  He,  the  Christ, 
came,  joining  in  the  common  life  of  man  and  trying  to 
win  them  by  love  and  tenderness,  they  turned  against 
Him,  and  called  Him  hard  names  as  well.  The  truth 
was  they  did  not  want  to  learn  the  way  of  God  at  all. 
All  they  took  pleasure  in  was  to  find  fault  with  those 
whom  God  had  sent  to  teach  them  His  way. 

Not  long  after  this,  God  sent  a  shining  angel  to 
unloose  the  bars  of  St.  John's  prison,  and  to  set  the  caged 
eagle  free. 

It  was  Herod's  birthday,  and  he  had  invited  the  lords 
and  captains  and  great  men  of  Galilee  to  a  state  banquet 
at  the  Castle.  Lights  shone  and  music  sounded  in  the 
great  banqueting-hall,  the  tables  were  spread  with  gold 
and  silver  dishes,  and  the  guests,  crowned  with  roses, 
ate  and  drank  and  made  merry.  Presently,  in  the  midst 
of  the  feasting,  the  daughter  of  Herodias,  a  young  girl, 
Salome  by  name,  came  in  and  danced  before  the  king 
and  his  guests.  It  was  held  a  shameful  thing  in  Syria 
for  any  maiden  to  dance  in  public  and  before  men,  and 
Salome  was  a  princess.  Yet  so  beautiful  was  she,  and 
with  such  grace  did  she  dance,  that  the  hall  rang  with 
applause,  and  Herod  in  his  drunken  delight  swore  that 
whatever  she  should  ask  should  be  hers,  '  even  unto  the 
half  of  my  kingdom.'  What  should  she  ask  ?  She  flew 
to  ask  advice  of  her  mother. 

Herodias  had  revenged  herself  upon  St.  John  for 
opposing  her  marriage  by  having  him  shut  up  in  prison, 
but  she  was  not  satisfied  yet.  Her  hate  for  the  man 
who  had  dared  to  affront  her  could  only  be  appeased 
by  his  death. 

Well,  so   here  was   her   opportunity  at  last!      *Ask 


ST.  JOHN  IN  THE  BLACK  CASTI.K      181 

for  John  Baptist's  head,'  she  whispers  eagerly  ;  and  the 
girl  goes  back  to  the  banqueting-hall  and  says,  '  My  wish 
is  that  you  give  me  here  immediately,  on  a  dish,  the  head 
of  John  the  Baptist' 

As  he  hears  the  Avords,  the  king  is  filled  with  dismay. 
In  his  heart  he  knew  that  St.  John  was  a  brave,  good 
man.  He  knew  that  St.  John  had  been  in  the  right  and 
that  he  was  in  the  wrong.  Herod  had  shut  up  an 
innocent  man  in  prison  to  please  a  queen ;  but  to  kill 
him— that  was  a  different  matter.  How  dared  he  do 
this  ?  And  yet,  the  promise !  He  had  made  it  before 
all  his  guests,  and  he  could  not  draw  back.  And  so, 
because  he  was  a  coward,  because  he  was  afraid  of  what 
his  friends  would  say  or  think,  he  gave  the  death  order 
to  a  soldier. 

St.  John  in  his  lonely  prison  cell  had  doubtless  heard 
faint  echoes  of  the  music  and  the  revelry  that  was  going 
on  above.  Now  he  hears  a  step  coming  down  the  stairs. 
The  door  of  his  dungeon  opens  and  the  red  flame  of 
a  brandished  torch  fills  his  dark  cell  with  light.  He  sees 
the  soldier  with  drawn  sword  in  his  hand,  and  he  knows 
his  last  hour  has  come.  Yet  he  is  not  afraid.  Calmly 
he  commends  his  soul  to  God  and  turns  to  face  his 
death.  Then  the  sword  flashes  and  all  is  over.  The 
angel  comes  shining  down,  and  his  prison  door  is  un- 
locked at  last. 

JNIeanwhile  the  sounds  of  revelry  have  died  down  and 
the  king  and  his  guests  are  awaiting,  in  uneasy  silence, 
the  executioner's  return. 

By  and  by  the  curtain  at  the  entrance  of  the  hall 
is  drawn  back  and  the  soldier  stalks  in— a  grim  figure — 
in  his  hands  a  golden  dish,  and  upon  it  the  dead  man's 
head  with  its  bloodless  lips  and  dreadful  staring  eyes. 
In  silence  he  places  his  ghastly  burden  in  Salome's  hands, 


182  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

and  she  lifts  it  up  in  triumph  and  carries  it  off  to  her 
wicked  mother. 

How  the  sight  of  that  head  would  haunt  King 
Herod  in  his  dreams!  He  never  forgot  it.  There  was 
no  peace  henceforth  for  the  guilty  monarch.  After- 
wards, when  he  heard  of  Jesus  and  His  wonderful 
works,  his  troubled  conscience  even  made  him  think, 
we  are  told,  that  St.  John  had  arisen  to  life  again,  and 
he  cried  out  and  cowered  with  guilty  fear. 

You  will  say  that  this  was  a  sad  death  for  St.  John 
to  die,  but  ah  I  I  think  it  was  a  glorious  one.  He  had 
lived  a  brave,  heroic  life,  and  he  died  as  he  had  lived. 
To  human  eyes  it  might  have  seemed  that  his  life  had 
been  a  failure.  Only  six  months'  work  after  all  his  years 
of  preparation,  and  then  the  end!  But  God's  eye  sees 
differently  to  ours.  Where  we  see  failure  He  often  sees 
success.  It  is  not  the  length  of  the  service  that  counts 
with  Him,  it  is  the  faithfulness  shown  in  doing  the 
service.  And  St.  John  had  been  faithful.  He  had  borne 
his  witness  to  the  King;  he  had  done  the  work  God 
had  given  him  to  do.  And  his  work  remained.  After- 
wards, when  Jesus  paid  a  visit  to  the  place  where  St, 
John  at  first  baptized,  the  people,  we  are  told,  recalled 
the  words  the  herald  had  spoken  of  the  King,  '  and 
many  believed  on  Him  there.'  St.  John's  work,  you  see, 
went  on  after  his  death.  All  true  work  always  does. 
The  sower  comes  and  sows  his  seed  and  passes  on  his  way, 
and  his  seed  sinks  into  the  furrow  and  is  lost.  But  by 
and  by  it  springs  up,  and  if  he  does  not  gather  the 
harvest  himself,  others  gather  it  for  him  over  his  grave. 
So  it  was  with  St.  John. 


■  Were  a  star  quenched  on  high, 
For  ages  would  its  light. 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  WAS  A  SINNER     183 

Still  travelling  downward  from  the  sky, 
Shine  on  our  mortal  sight. 

'So  when  a  great  man  dies. 

For  years  beyond  our  ken. 
The  light  he  leaves  behind  him  lies 
Upon  the  paths  of  men.' 

While  at  Nain,  or  one  of  the  neighbouring  villages, 
Jesus  was  invited  by  a  rich  Pharisee,  Simon  by  name, 
to  dine  at  his  house.  The  Pharisee  seems  to  have  asked 
Jesus,  not  out  of  friendliness  so  much  as  out  of  curiosity, 
to  see  what  kind  of  man  this  new  Teacher  was,  about 
whom  so  many  wonderful  stories  were  being  told.  He 
was  a  proud,  haughty  man,  and  thought  he  was  showing 
Jesus  great  condescension  in  thus  inviting  him  to  sit 
down  at  his  table. 

Now  among  the  Jews  an  invited  guest  was  always 
treated  with  great  courtesy  and  respect.  On  arriving 
at  his  host's  house  there  was  a  slave-boy  ready  to  unloose 
his  sandals  and  pour  cool  water  upon  his  dusty  feet ;  and 
on  crossing  the  threshold,  the  host  himself  would  hasten 
to  meet  him  and  give  him  the  kiss  of  welcome.  He 
would  then  be  conducted  to  one  of  the  couches  ranged 
around  the  table,  and  his  host,  or  one  of  the  servants, 
would  anoint  his  head  with  fragrant  oil. 

None  of  these  marks  of  respect,  however,  were  paid 
to  Jesus.  He  was  made  to  feel  that  His  host  regarded 
Him  as  of  little  consequence,  and  that  He  was  expected 
to  be  grateful  for  being  invited  at  all. 

While  the  dinner  was  being  eaten,  a  woman  came  in 
through  the  open  door,  bearing  in  her  hands  an  alabaster 
box  of  precious  ointment.  She  was  not  a  good  woman  ; 
she  had  trailed  the  white  robe  of  innocence  God  had 
given  her  in  the  diust ;  and  her  life,  once  fair  and  beautiful. 


184  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

was  now  a  stained  and  ruined  thing  over  which  the  angels 
wept.  It  was  Jesus'  presence  that  had  drawn  her  to  the 
Pharisee's  house.  She  had  heard  of  His  love  and  pity 
for  the  fallen  and  the  lost ;  perhaps  she  had  been  among 
the  crowd,  a  short  time  before,  when  He  had  spoken  some 
beautiful  words  to  those  who  were  grieved  and  wearied 
with  the  burden  of  their  sins — '  Come  unto  ^le,  all  ye 
that  labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest. 
Take  My  yoke  upon  you  and  learn  of  Me,  for  I  am  meek 
and  lowly  in  heart,  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your 
souls.' 

Rest,  oh  how  she  longed  for  rest!  How  tired  she 
was  of  her  guilty  life;  how  her  sin,  which  she  had 
worn  at  first  as  lightly  as  a  flower,  had  grown  and  grown 
until  it  had  become  a  sore  burden,  too  heavy  for  her  to 
bear.  Would  Jesus  take  pity  upon  her  and  give  her 
rest? 

How  wonderful  He  was.  How  different  from  the 
haughty  Pharisee  who  drew  aside  his  robe  as  she  passed 
him  in  the  street.  She  felt  somehow  that  He  would  not 
turn  her  away. 

And  so  she  came  and  stood  behind  the  couch  upon 
which  Jesus  was  reclining,  and,  as  she  stood  there,  her 
tears  began  to  fall  upon  His  feet,  like  the  warm  drops 
of  a  summer  shower;  and  as  they  fell  she  wiped  them 
off  with  her  hair,  and  bending  down  began  to  kiss 
Jesus'  feet  and  to  anoint  him  with  the  precious  ointment 
from  her  alabaster  box. 

The  cold,  severe  eye  of  Simon  had  noticed  all  this, 
and  he  was  filled  with  contempt.  He  could  not  under- 
stand how  Jesus,  if  He  were  really  a  prophet,  could 
allow  Himself  to  be  touched  by  such  a  woman.  How 
was  it  that  He  did  not  know  that  she  was  a  sinner  ? 

Jesus  read  his  thoughts,  and  answered  them  by  telling 


THE  WOISIAN  WHO  WAS  A  SINNER     185 

him  the  story  of  the  money-lender  and  the  debtors. 
*  There  was  a  certain  money-lender,'  He  said,  '  who  had 
two  debtors :  the  one  owed  five  hundred  pence,  and  the 
other  fifty.  And  when  they  had  nothing  to  pay,  he 
frankly  forgave  them  both.  Tell  me,  therefore,  which 
of  them  will  love  him  most  ? ' 

Simon,  who  wondered  what  was  coming  next, 
answered  shortly,  *  I  suppose  that  he  to  whom  he 
forgave  most.'  And  Jesus  said,  'Thou  hast  rightly 
judged.'  Then,  pointing  to  the  w^oman  at  His  feet. 
He  went  on  sadly,  '  Seest  thou  this  woman  ?  I  entered 
into  thine  house,  thou  gavest  Me  no  water  for  My  feet ; 
but  she  hath  washed  JNIy  feet  with  tears,  and  wiped 
them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head.  Thou  gavest  me  no 
kiss :  but  this  w^oman  since  the  time  I  came  in  hath 
not  ceased  to  kiss  ^ly  feet.  INIy  head  with  oil  thou 
didst  not  anoint,  but  this  woman  hath  anointed  My 
feet  with  ointment. 

'  Wherefore  I  say  unto  thee,  her  sins,  which  are 
many,  are  forgiven ;  for  she  loved  much ;  but  to  whom 
little  is  forgiven,  the  same  loveth  little  ! ' 

And  then  to  the  woman  He  said,  'Thy  sins  are 
forgiven.  .  .  .  Thy  faith  hath  saved  thee;  go  in  peace.' 
And  at  His  words  the  burden  of  her  sins  was  rolled 
away,  the  weary  heart  found  rest,  and  she  went  out  to 
win  a  place  for  herself  among  the  saints.  '  JNIary 
Magdalene  was  dow^n  in  the  mud  of  the  streets,  but 
the  Master  passed  by,  and  now  she  is  robed  in  white 
and  forever  gleams  and  glitters,  a  jewel  in  the  crown 
of  the  King  of  Kings.'  Jesus  continued  His  journey 
through  the  towns  and  villages  of  Galilee,  and  as  He 
went  He  healed  many  sick  folk  of  their  diseases,  and 
spoke  His  message  of  comfort  and  hope  to  many  a 
sin-stained,  sorrowing  soul. 


186  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

But  though  the  common  people  heard  Him  gladly, 
the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  looked  on  with  scowling  faces 
and  angry  hearts. 

Whatever  Jesus  did  had  come  to  be  wrong  in  their 
eyes.  Once  when, '  by  the  finger  of  God,'  He  had  healed 
a  poor  sufferer  who  was  blind  and  dumb  and  devil- 
possessed,  because  they  could  not  dispute  the  miracle, 
they  even  accused  Jesus  of  working  it  by  the  power 
of  the  evil  one  himself. 

It  was  then  that  Jesus  spoke  sterner  words  to  them 
than  He  had  ever  spoken  before.  He  told  them  that, 
by  shutting  their  eyes  to  the  light  and  hardening  their 
hearts  against  the  truth,  they  were  running  an  awful 
risk.  They  were  drifting  into  a  state  in  which  all  good 
impulses  and  right  feelings  would  die  out  of  their  hearts, 
and  they  would  be  unable  to  repent,  and  being  unable 
to  repent  God  would  be  unable  to  forgive  them  to  all 
eternity. 

Jesus'  life  at  this  time  was  a  very  busy  and  crowded 
one.  Over  and  over  again  He  would  go  hungry  because 
His  work  left  Him  no  time  to  eat,  and  the  feet  that 
carried  Him  about  on  His  errands  of  love  and  mercy 
often  grew  very  weary. 

One  day,  vexed  at  the  thought  of  the  heavy  strain 
He  was  enduring,  His  mother  and  His  brethren  came 
where  He  was  teaching,  in  order  to  persuade  Him  to 
take  a  little  rest  and  food.  The  crowd  was  so  great, 
however,  that  they  found  it  impossible  to  get  near  Him. 
At  last  the  message  was  brought  to  Jesus  that  His 
mother  and  His  brethren  were  standing  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  crowd,  desiring  to  speak  with  Him.  But  He 
answered,  *Who  is  My  mother  and  who  are  My 
brethren  ? '  Then  with  tender,  loving  look,  stretching 
His  hands   towards   His  disciples.   He  said    a  beautiful 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  WAS  A  SINNER     187 

thing,  and  one  which  is  full  of  comfort  and  encourage- 
ment to  every  one  who  is  trying  to  serve  God  humbly 
and  faithfully  in  the  wear  and  tear  of  common  every 
day  life.  '  Behold  My  mother  and  My  brethren ;  for 
whosoever  shall  do  the  will  of  My  Father  which  is  in 
Heaven,  the  same  is  My  brother  and  sister  and  mother.' 


XT 


THE    SEVEN    PICTURES    OF    THE    KINGDOM — THE    STORM    ON 
THE    LAKE — JESUS    AND    THE    DEMONIAC    OF    GADARA 

One  day,  early  after  His  return  to  Capernaum,  Jesus 
made  His  way  down  to  the  seashore.  He  was  glad  at 
times  to  leave  the  hot,  crowded,  narrow  streets  of  the 
bustling  town,  and  to  sit  for  awhile  by  the  sea.  There 
would  nearly  always  be  a  cool  breeze  blowing  from  the 
hills,  and  He  loved  the  sight  of  the  blue,  spreading  waters. 
There  on  the  seashore,  with  the  little  wavelets  gently 
breaking  upon  the  hard,  white  sand  at  His  feet,  He  would 
sit  looking  out  over  the  sea,  and  watch  the  play  of  the 
sunlight  on  the  rippling  waters,  with  the  white  clouds 
sailing  overhead,  and  forget  for  awhile  his  weariness. 

But  to-day  as  He  went  down  to  the  beach.  He  did 
not  go  alone ;  He  was  followed  by  a  great  multitude  of 
people,  who  had  come  out  to  see  Him  from  all  the 
villages  and  towns  in  the  neighbourhood.  So  great  was 
the  crowd,  and  so  eagerly  did  the  people  press  upon  Him, 
that  He  stepped  into  the  boat  the  disciples  kept  moored 
close  to  the  shore  for  His  use,  and  made  that  His  pulpit 
from  which  to  speak  to  the  people  the  word  of  life. 

The  Gospels  give  us  a  full  account  of  Jesus'  '  Sermon 
on  the  Sea,'  as  we  might  almost  call  it.  It  was  a  sermon 
made  up  of  seven  parables,  all  dealing  with  one  subject, 
the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  God's  great  colony,  the  Church, 
which  He  had  come  to  found  on  earth  ;  the  colony  whose 


TUK   SOWER 


PICTURES  OF  THE  KINGDOM  189 

laws  He  had  already  laid  down,  and  the  character  of 
whose  citizens  He  had  already  described  in  His  '  Sermon 
on  the  INIount.' 

The  parables  of  Jesus  were  really  like  so  many  coloured 
pictures.  When  He  wanted  to  describe  the  things  of 
Heaven  and  of  God,  to  people  who  were  too  ignorant  or 
simple-minded  to  understand  them  without  help,  He 
would  draw  an  earthly  picture  of  the  Heavenly  thing — 
choosing  as  His  picture  something  quite  familiar  to  His 
hearers — and  hold  it  up  before  them.  Then  those  who 
were  in  earnest,  and  anxious  to  learn,  would  look  into  the 
picture  and  seek  out  the  Heavenly  meaning  that  lay  hidden 
there,  and  as  they  looked,  the  meaning  would  unfold  itself, 
and  they  would  learn  the  lesson  that  Jesus  meant  to 
teach.  Now  in  the  seven  parables  which  Jesus  spoke,  we 
have  seven  pictures  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  looked  at 
from  every  side — in  its  foundation,  its  growth,  its  secret 
influence,  its  value,  and  its  end. 

The  first  picture  He  drew  was  a  beautiful  and  yet  a 
sad  one  too.  It  shows  us  a  Sower  going  out  to  sow  his 
seed — Jesus  Christ  Himself  leaving  the  beautiful  fields  of 
Heaven  and  coming  down  to  this  sad  earth  of  ours  to  sow 
the  seed  of  Eternal  life  in  men's  hearts.  But  as  He  sows, 
some  of  the  seed  falls  by  the  hard  wayside,  and  the  birds 
swoop  down  upon  it  and  carry  it  off;  and  some  fidls  on 
rocky  places,  but  thinly  covered  with  the  good  red  earth, 
and  it  springs  up  at  once,  but  as  quickly  withers  away 
beneath  the  scorching  heat  of  the  sun.  And  some  falls 
on  a  thorn-patch  where  the  thorns  had  been  cut  down  but 
not  rooted  up,  and  it  too  springs  up ;  only  the  thorns 
spring  up  as  well,  and  the  stronger  plants  strangle  the 
weaker,  and  no  fruit  is  brought  to  perfection.  Only  a 
fourth  part  of  the  ground  is  fruitful,  only  a  fourth  part  of 
men's  hearts  are  honest  and  good,  and  understand  the 


190  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

word  of  life,  and  bring  forth  fruit,  some  an  hundredfold, 
some  sixty,  and  some  thirty. 

And  next,  the  parable  of  the  tares  tells  a  still  sadder 
tale.  We  are  shown  a  picture  of  the  good  field  of  the 
Church,  well  tended  and  cared  for,  and  the  yellow  wheat 
seed  carefully  sown;  and  then,  in  the  dead  of  night,  with, 
stealthy  tread  and  furtive  glance,  the  dark  form  of  an 
enemy,  moving  among  the  furrows  and  sowing  the 
poisonous  black  tare  seed  among  the  wheat  —  false 
teaching,  false  practice,  everything  false.  And  then 
when  the  wheat  blades  show  green  above  the  ground 
the  tares  appear  with  them.  And  there  is  nothing  to  be 
done ;  the  poisonous  plants  cannot  be  rooted  out,  the  bad 
people  cannot  be  separated  from  the  good.  Good  and 
bad  alike  must  just  grow  together  till  the  harvest.  Not 
till  the  Day  of  Judgment,  when  the  angel  reapers  are 
sent  forth  to  reap  the  field,  can  the  separation  be  made. 

Such  then,  Jesus  teaches,  should  be  the  opening  history 
of  the  Church — only  one-fourth  part  of  the  good  seed 
sown  in  men's  hearts  taking  effect,  and  then  the  tares 
springing  up  and  helping  to  spoil  even  that. 

But  to  show  that  in  spite  of  the  hindrances  and  diffi- 
culties in  the  way  of  God's  Kingdom,  it  should  in  the  end 
prevail,  comes  the  parable  of  the  grain  of  mustard  seed, 
which  indeed  is  the  least  of  all  seeds,  but  when  it  is  grown 
it  is  the  greatest  among  herbs,  and  becomes  a  tree,  so  that 
the  fowls  of  the  air  come  and  lodge  in  the  branches  of  it. 
What  a  little  thing  is  a  seed !  a  child's  hand  can  crush  it, 
a  breath  can  blow  it  away ;  and  yet  wrapped  up  in  that 
tiny  seed  lies  a  mighty  tree,  with  spreading  branches, 
whose  roots  shall  strike  down  so  deep  into  the  earth  that 
the  fiercest  tempest  shall  be  powerless  to  move  it.  Such 
a  seed  should  be  the  Church  of  Jesus.  It  would  have  a 
very  small  beginning,  but  it  should  have  a  mighty  ending. 


PICTURES  OF  THE  KINGDOM  191 

And  so  it  has  come  to  pass.  Tlie  mustard  seed,  that  tiny, 
despised  band  of  twelve  disciples,  poor  fishermen,  with  no 
wealth  or  learning  or  influence,  has  grown  into  a  great 
tree,  under  whose  branches  many  nations  have  been 
gathered.  It  is  still  growing;  one  day,  we  believe,  it 
will  overshadow  the  whole  wide  world. 

Then  comes  tlie  parable  of  the  leaven,  which  shows  us 
a  woman  at  a  kneading-trough,  putting  leaven  or  yeast 
into  a  lump  of  dough,  until  by  and  by,  as  the  leaven 
spreads,  the  whole  lump  is  leavened. 

That  again  Jesus  meant  to  be  a  picture  of  the  progress 
of  the  Kingdom,  looked  at  not  so  much  from  without,  in 
its  open  effects,  as  from  within,  in  its  secret  influence.  It 
shows  us  how  the  leaven  of  the  Kingdom — the  influence 
of  Jesus'  words  and  that  of  the  Holy  Spirit — works  within 
us,  gradually  weaning  the  heart  from  the  love  of  worldly 
things,  and  teaching  it  to  love  the  things  of  Heaven  ;  and 
how  by  growing  into  true  servants  of  God  ourselves,  by 
the  beauty  and  example  of  our  lives,  we  influence  others 
to  become  His  servants  too. 

The  next  two  parables  have  to  do  with  the  glorious 
prize  that  is  set  before  the  children  of  the  Kingdom,  and 
tells  us  what  we  must  do  to  gain  it.  First  of  all  we  are 
shown  a  man  ploughing  a  field.  Suddenly  his  plough- 
share strikes  against  something  hard.  He  looks  down, 
and  there,  at  his  feet,  lies  a  great  box  crammed  full  of 
buried  treasure,  gold  and  silver  and  precious  stones.  His 
fortune  is  made.  Hastily  covering  up  the  glittering  heap 
for  fear  other  eyes  may  see  it,  with  beating  heart  he 
hurries  home  and  sells  all  that  he  has,  and  buys  the  field 
of  treasure  for  himself. 

Next  we  are  shown  a  merchantman,  knapsack  on 
back,  travelling  about  in  search  of  pearls.  One  day  he 
comes  across  the  most  wonderful  pearl  he  has  ever  seen — 


192  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

the  whitest,  the  roundest,  the  most  perfect — a  gem  fit  to 
shine  in  the  crown  of  the  mightiest  king.  Henceforth 
his  quest  is  at  an  end.  There  is  only  one  pearl  for  him 
now  in  all  the  world,  and  to  buy  it,  like  the  ploughman, 
he  parts  with  all  his  possessions. 

The  treasure  and  the  pearl  are  both  pictures  of  the 
Church's  King,  Jesus  Christ  Himself,  '  the  Prize  of  our 
high  calling.'  To  some,  like  the  ploughman,  the  great 
Prize  is  made  known  suddenly ;  they  find  it,  as  he  found 
the  treasure  in  the  field.  They  have  been  long  living, 
perhaps,  a  careless,  indifferent  life,  not  troubling  much 
about  religion,  when  suddenly  something  happens  to  open 
their  eyes — some  chance  word,  some  solemn  event,  some 
accident ;  and  there  before  them  shines  the  treasure  in  all 
its  golden  splendour  and  Heavenly  beauty,  and  to  gain  it 
they  give  up  everything. 

To  some  the  Prize  comes  in  the  same  fashion  as  the 
pearl  came  to  the  merchantman.  All  their  life  they  have 
been  seeking  pearls,  shining  pearls  of  peace  and  happiness 
and  rest  of  mind  and  heart,  but  somehow  the  perfect 
pearl  is  hard  to  find.  They  persevere,  however,  and  at 
last,  after  long  searching  they  find  it,  and  find  it  in  what 
perhaps  they  despised  long  ago,  the  Cross  of  Jesus  Christ. 

And  when  the  Treasure,  the  Pearl,  is  found,  everything 
else  goes  for  nothing.  St.  Augustine,  once  a  young  man 
of  wild  and  evil  life,  and  afterwards  a  saint  and  bishop  of 
the  Church,  tells  us  how  true  this  was  in  his  own  case ; 
how  easy  he  found  it,  in  his  joy  at  finding  the  Treasure, 
Christ,  to  give  up  all  that  he  had  long  dreaded  to  part 
with — all  his  sinful  pleasures,  his  evil  habits,  and  all  that 
belonged  to  his  old  bad  self.  St.  Paul,  the  eager  seeker 
after  pearls,  tells  us  much  the  same  story  too, '  Yea,  doubt- 
less, and  I  count  all  things  but  loss,'  he  writes,  '  for  the 
excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  my  Lord,  for 


PICTURES  OF  THE  KINGDOM  193 

whom  I  have  suffered  the  loss  of  all  things,  and  do  count 
them  but  dung,  that  I  may  win  Christ,  and  be  found 
in  Him.' 

Last  of  all,  with  a  very  solemn  lesson  to  those  who 
listened  to  it  from  the  lips  of  Jesus,  as  well  as  to  us  who 
read  it  to-day,  comes  the  parable  of  the  drag-net,  *  which 
when  it  was  full  they  drew  to  shore,  and  sat  down  and 
gatiiered  the  good  into  vessels,  but  cast  the  bad  away.' 
The  net  is  a  picture  of  the  Church,  let  down  by  the  hand 
of  Jesus  into  tlie  shadowy  waters  of  the  world.  Ever 
since  the  Day  of  Pentecost  it  has  been  gathering  into  its 
meshes  of  every  kind,  young  and  old,  rich  and  poor,  good 
and  bad,  and  still,  with  ever  widening  sweep,  it  searches 
the  waters  through  and  through.  But  when  the  night 
of  time  is  past,  and  the  morning  of  eternity  begins 
to  break  upon  the  everlasting  hills,  the  net  shall  be 
drawn  to  shore,  and  then  the  good  fish  shall  be 
separated  from  the  bad,  Christ's  true  servants  from  His 
pretended  followers. 

And  the  evil  and  slothful,  the  useless  and  tainted,  all 
those  unfit  for  the  Heavenly  life,  shall  be  shut  out  from 
the  kingdom  for  ever;  while  the  righteous  shall  shine 
forth  as  the  sun  in  the  Kingdom  of  their  Father. 

After  He  had  spoken  this  last  parable,  Jesus  sent  the 
crowd  away  to  think  over  what  He  had  said,  and  to  try 
to  get  at  the  meaning  of  the  beautiful  pictures  He  had 
painted. 

The  evening  was  now  drawing  on,  and  the  rays  of  the 
westering  sun  had  begun  to  dye  the  lovely  waters  of  the 
lake  with  more  lovely  colours  still,  and  to  turn  to  gold 
the  white  sands,  where  the  fishermen  were  busy  mending 
their  nets.  Jesus,  seeing  fresh  crowds  gathering  upon  the 
beach  and  wishing  to  avoid  them,  bade  His  disciples  hoist 
sail  and  make  for  the  other  side  of  the  lake ;  and  presently 

N 


194  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

the  boat  in  which  He  stood  was  moving  over  the  water  in 
the  direction  of  the  little  town  of  Gadara. 

Jesus  was  tired  out  with  His  day's  work,  and  as  the 
disciples  were  busy  working  the  ropes  and  adjusting  the 
sail  to  catch  the  breeze,  He  went  to  the  hinder  part  of 
the  vessel  and  lay  down  to  sleep  with  His  head  on  the 
steersman's  leather  cushion.  Suddenly,  while  they  were  in 
the  midst  of  the  sea,  one  of  those  violent  storms  which, 
without  any  warning,  sometimes  sweep  down  upon  the 
lake,  burst  over  their  head,  and  in  a  moment  the  little 
fishing  boat  was  fighting  for  its  life  in  the  midst  of  a 
tumbling,  flying  mass  of  water. 

The  disciples  were  brave  and  hardy  fishermen,  used  to 
rough  weather.  They  knew — none  better — how  to  handle 
a  boat  in  a  storm,  but  this  was  a  fiercer  storm  than  even 
they  cared  to  face.  As  the  wind  blew  more  and  more 
violently  and  the  angry  sea  rose  higher  and  higher,  they 
became  thoroughly  frightened,  expecting  every  moment 
that  the  boat  would  sink.  At  last,  in  their  terror  and 
alarm,  they  turn  for  help  to  their  Master,  but  to  their 
astonishment  they  find  Him  still  asleep,  resting  peacefully, 
as  a  tired-out  child  might  rest,  quite  undisturbed  by  the 
rocking  and  tossing  of  the  ship  and  the  noise  of  the  waves. 
*  Master,  Master,  we  perish,'  they  cry,  and  at  the  sound 
of  their  voice  Jesus  awakes. 

Does  it  not  seem  strange  that  He  should  have  slept 
through  the  howHng  of  the  wind,  and  the  creaking  of  the 
cordage,  and  the  thud  of  the  water  dashing  against  the 
vessel's  sides,  to  be  awakened  at  last  by  the  sound  of 
voices.  Why  was  this  ?  Dear  child,  I  think  the  voices 
of  the  disciples  reached  Jesus'  ears  because  the  disciples 
themselves  were  so  near  to  Jesus'  heart.  I  have  heard  of 
a  mother  who  slept  through  a  great  storm  just  in  the 
same  way,  but  was  suddenly  awakened  by  the  cry  of  her 


THE  STORM  ON  THE  LAKE  195 

little  child.  It  was  love  that  keened  her  ear  to  hear  the 
baby  voice,  just  as  it  was  love  and  tenderness  that  keened 
the  ear  of  Jesus  to  hear  the  cry  of  His  disciples  in  their 
bitter  need. 

Rising  to  His  feet  Jesus'  eye  takes  in  all  the  wildness 
of  the  scene  around  Him— the  leaping  waves,  the  sinking 
boat,  the  frightened  faces  of  the  disciples.  *  Why  are  ye 
so  fearful  ? '  He  asks.  '  How  is  it  that  ye  have  no  faith  ? ' 
Then  stretching  out  His  hand  over  the  angry  sea,  He 
speaks  to  it  as  a  tamer  might  speak  to  some  savage  animal, 
'  Peace,  be  still '  ('  be  muzzled,'  the  words  really  mean),  and 
at  His  word  the  wind  drops  and  the  white  waves  crouch 
at  His  feet.  Far  and  wide  spreads  the  great  calm ;  the 
clouds  roll  away;  the  stars  come  out;  in  a  sapphire  sky 
the  moon  hangs  a  white  globe,  and  trails  a  path  of  glory 
over  the  waters. 

Then  the  disciples  looked  one  on  another  in  amaze- 
ment, saying,  '  What  manner  of  man  is  this,  that  even 
the  wind  and  the  sea  obey  Him?'  They  felt  as  Jacob 
felt  when  he  awakened  out  of  his  dream  and  said,  '  Surely 
the  Lord  is  in  this  place,  and  I  knew  it  not.'  Jesus  had 
shown  that  He  had  the  strength  of  God.  *0  Lord  God 
of  Hosts,  who  is  like  unto  Thee  ?  Thou  rulest  the  raging 
of  the  sea ;  Thou  stillest  the  waves  thereof  when  they 
arise.' 

Delayed  by  the  storm,  by  the  time  Jesus  and  His 
disciples  had  reached  the  opposite  shore  night  had  fallen, 
and  the  moonlight  was  shining  upon  the  desolate  coast 
with  its  background  of  barren  rocks  and  gloomy  caverns. 

As  the  disciples  grounded  the  boat  on  the  beach,  a  wild 
figure  came  leaping  towards  them  out  of  one  of  the  burial 
caves  among  the  rocks.  It  was  a  demoniac.  As  the 
moonlight  fell  upon  his  naked  body,  it  could  be  seen  that 
he  was  covered  with  dreadful  wounds.     His  matted  hair 


196  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

hung  loose  upon  his  shoulders,  while  pieces  of  broken 
chain  dangled  from  his  wrists  and  ankles. 

The  sport  of  the  evil  spirits,  he  had  wandered  away 
from  home  and  friends,  and  made  a  dreadful  lodging  for 
himself  among  the  tombs  by  the  seashore,  where  he  had 
become  the  terror  of  the  countryside.  For  he  was  very 
strong  as  well  as  fierce,  and  men  were  afraid  of  him.  To 
prevent  him  doing  mischief  he  had  been  chained,  but  his 
strength  was  so  great  that  he  had  broken  the  strongest 
chains  in  pieces ;  and  always,  night  and  day,  he  was  in 
the  mountains,  crying  and  cutting  himself  with  sharp 
stones. 

On  seeing  Jesus,  this  poor,  devil-haunted  man  fell  at 
His  feet,  confessing  Him  to  be  the  Son  of  God,  and  be- 
seeching Him  not  to  torment  him.  Jesus,  with  a  look  of 
pity  at  the  wild  form  crouching  before  Him,  asked  him 
his  name,  when  the  strange  answer  came,  '  My  name  is 
Legion,  for  we  are  many,'  by  which  the  man  meant,  per- 
haps, that  the  evil  spirits  who  haunted  him  were  a  great 
host.  With  this  the  evil  spirits,  using  the  man  as  their 
mouthpiece,  began  to  beseech  Jesus  not  to  banish  them 
to  the  place  of  darkness  whence  they  had  come  out. 
See !  there  was  a  huge  herd  of  swine  feeding  on  the  cliff* 
overhanging  the  sea.  Might  they  not  enter  into  them  ? 
Then  Jesus  grants  their  request,  and,  leaving  the 
demoniac,  the  evil  spirits  enter  into  the  swine,  and  im- 
mediately the  whole  herd,  as  though  seized  by  a  panic, 
rush  down  the  steep  cliff",  plunge  into  the  dark  waters, 
and  are  drowned. 

There  was  a  band  of  swineherds  tending  the  swine. 
When  these  men  saw  what  had  happened,  late  as  it  was, 
they  fled  away  in  terror  to  carry  the  news  to  Gadara.  And 
at  sunrise  the  people  came  flocking  out  to  the  scene  of  the 
miracle.     There  a  wonderful  sight  met  their  gaze.    Sitting 


THE  DEMONIAC  OF  GADARA  197 

at  the  feet  of  Jesus  was  the  man  who  had  the  I^egion, 
but  how  changed  1  No  longer  was  he  naked,  fierce,  and 
raving.  He  sat  there  clothed,  perhaps  in  a  cloak  which 
Jesus'  own  hands  had  tenderly  placed  around  him,  and 
gazing  at  them  with  gentle  aspect  and  quiet,  untroubled 
eyes. 

It  was  a  sight  which  might  have  touched  their  hearts ; 
and  yet  these  half-heathen  people — for  so  they  were— 
could  think  of  nothing  but  their  lost  swine.  They  stared 
doubtfully  at  Jesus,  and  instead  of  inviting  Him  to  enter 
their  city  they  begged  Him  to  go  away.  They  did  not 
know  what  damage  He  might  be  doing  next. 

And  Jesus  went  away.  He  would  not  stay  where  He 
was  not  wanted ;  and  so  the  people  of  Gadara  lost  the 
blessings  His  presence  in  their  city  might  have  brought. 
No  sick  were  healed  at  Gadara,  no  blind  eyes  were  opened, 
no  lepers  cleansed,  no  message  of  comfort  and  hope  came 
to  lighten  the  lives  of  the  sorrowful,  or  lead  the  sinful 
back  to  God.  Jesus  saw  that  these  people  cared  only  for 
money  and  gain,  and  so  He  turned  from  them.  They 
never  saw  His  face  again. 

Meanwhile  the  man  that  had  the  Legion  prayed 
earnestly  that  he  might  go  back  with  Jesus  to  Caper- 
naum as  His  disciple  or  servant.  But  Jesus  had  other 
work  for  him  to  do.  He  was  to  serve  Him  by  going 
back  to  his  home,  and  telling  his  friends  and  relations 
what  great  things  the  Lord  had  done  for  him.  And  the 
man  did  as  Jesus  commanded  him.  He  returned  home, 
and  from  his  home  he  went  into  all  the  country  round, 
spreading  the  story  of  Jesus'  greatness  and  His  love. 

O  happy  man,  that  had  the  Legion !  yesterday  the 
prey  of  unclean  spirits,  ruined,  degraded,  lost ;  to-day  set 
free  by  the  power  of  God,  lifted  out  of  his  misery,  and 
made  a  standard-bearer  in  the  army  of  the  King. 


XII 


THE    LITTLE    MAID    WHOM    JESUS    RAISED    FROM    THE    DEAD 

THE    king's    AMBASSADORS THE    MIRACLE    OF   THE 

FIVE  LOAVES HOW  JESUS  WALKED   UPON   THE  WAVES 

Descending  the  rocky  cliffs  of  Gadara,  Jesus  and  His 
disciples  entered  the  little  fishing-skiff  that  lay  moored  to 
the  shore,  and,  hoisting  sail,  turned  the  boat's  head  once 
more  for  Capernaum. 

As  they  drew  near  the  landing-stage,  they  saw  a  great 
crowd  upon  the  beach  anxiously  awaiting  their  arrival. 
Among  them  stood  a  man  whose  rich  dress  and  stately 
presence  marked  him  out  as  one  of  the  chief  men  of  the 
city.  This  was  Jairus,  the  wealthy  ruler  of  the  synagogue. 
He  was  in  great  trouble ;  his  only  little  daughter,  whom 
he  dearly  loved,  was  ill  and  like  to  die,  and  he  had  left  his 
house  in  haste  to  seek  for  Jesus,  and  to  implore  Him  to 
come  and  heal  her. 

Pitying  glances  are  cast  by  the  whispering  crowd  at 
the  rich  man,  as  he  stands  there  with  his  proud  head  bent 
and  his  face  working  with  silent  grief,  but  he  does  not 
heed  them.  He  can  only  think  of  his  little  child,  with 
her  bright  eyes  and  fevered  face,  tossing  on  her  sick- 
bed at  home,  and  the  awful  fear  keeps  gnawing  at  his 
heart :  '  What  if  she  dies  before  the  Master  comes  ? ' 

At  last  the  boat  grounds  upon  the  beach,  and  almost 
before  the  disciples  have  had  time  to  land,  Jairus  has 
burst   through   the  crowd   and    flung   himself  at  Jesus' 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  JAIRUS  199 

feet  with  the  cry,  *  My  little  daughter  is  at  the  point 
of  death,  but  come  and  lay  Thy  hand  upon  her  and  she 
shall  live.' 

Jesus  does  not  answer  this  pitiful  cry  for  help  by  any 
word  of  good  cheer  ;  He  just  stretches  out  His  hand  and 
helps  the  ruler  to  his  feet ;  but  there  is  a  look  in  His  eyes 
so  kindly  and  so  compassionate  that  it  fills  the  poor  father 
with  courage,  and  sets  his  heart  beating  with  hope.  The 
next  moment  the  Good  Physician  is  on  His  way  to  Jairus' 
house.  As  He  passes  along  the  narrow  Capernaum 
streets,  followed  by  His  disciples  and  the  eager  crowd, 
a  poor  sick  woman  catches  sight  of  His  face.  She  has 
never  seen  so  w^onderful  a  face  before ;  it  seems  touched 
by  a  light  from  Heaven,  so  full  it  is  of  power  and  majesty 
and  love.  In  a  moment  her  mind  is  made  up.  She 
does  not  dare  approach  Jesus  openly,  but  she  comes 
behind  Him  in  the  press,  and  touches  the  white  tassel 
with  its  thread  of  blue  that  hangs  down  from  one  of  the 
corners  of  His  cloak.  Such  a  timid,  trembling  touch  it 
was ;  it  fell  upon  Jesus'  dress  like  a  snowflake.  But  it 
was  the  touch  of  faith,  and  He  felt  the  thrill  of  it.  In  a 
flash  the  health  and  strength  she  had  lost  so  long  came 
back  to  her ;  and  when  Jesus  turned  round  to  see  who  it 
was  that  touched  Him,  and  she  came  forward  and  con- 
fessed what  she  had  done,  she  heard  Him  say, '  Daughter, 
thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole ;  go  in  peace.' 

The  house  of  Jairus  was  not  far  off,  but  before  the  door 
was  reached  there  came  messengers  with  the  sad  news  that 
the  little  maid  w^as  dead.  There  was  no  need  to  trouble 
the  Good  Physician  any  further.  He  had  come  too  late. 
Too  late  !  cannot  we  imagine  the  look  of  agony  on  the  face 
the  father  turns  to  Jesus  ?  But  .lesus  only  gazes  at  him 
with  steadfast,  loving  eyes.  *Be  not  afraid,'  He  says, 
'  only  believe ' ;  and  somehow,  in  spite  of  the  news  he  has 


200  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

just  heard,  at  Jesus'  words  a  little  flame  of  hope  and  faith 
leaps  up  once  more  in  Jairus'  heart,  just  as,  when  some 
wind  stirs  the  embers,  a  little  scarlet  flame  will  some- 
times leap  from  a  dying  fire. 

Taking  with  him  St.  Peter,  St.  James,  and  St.  John, 
Jesus  entered  the  house  of  mourning.  There  were  signs 
of  death  everywhere.  Already  the  hired  mourners  had 
been  sent  for,  and  had  begun  to  ply  their  melancholy 
trade,  playing  on  flutes,  and  beating  their  breasts,  and 
fillins:  the  house  with  cries  of  lamentation.  Such  mock 
sorrow  and  pretended  grief  were  hateful  to  Jesus.  '  Why 
make  ye  this  ado,  and  weep  ? '  He  asks ;  '  the  damsel  is 
not  dead,  but  sleepeth.'  But  His  words  are  only  received 
with  scorn  and  mocking  laughter.  They  thought  Him 
mad ;  they  did  not  know  that  in  God's  eyes  to  die  is  really 
only  to  fall  asleep,  and  that  Jesus  could  as  easily  awaken 
the  dead  to  life  as  raise  a  sleeper  from  his  pillow. 

Then  Jesus  sent  them  forth  from  the  house,  and  tak- 
ing the  father  and  mother  of  the  little  girl  and  His  three 
disciples,  He  passed  into  the  quiet  of  the  death-chamber. 
There,  stretched  upon  her  little  pallet,  the  dead  child  lay, 
like  some  white  lily  with  a  broken  stem  ;  her  hands  were 
folded  meekly  on  her  breast,  her  eyes  were  closed  as  if 
in  slumber ;  upon  her  parted  hps  lay  the  smile  the  dead 
so  often  wear. 

Bending  down  Jesus  takes  one  of  the  little  hands 
in  His,  and  then.  His  words  sounding  like  a  tender  echo 
of  the  mother's  morning  cry  as  she  awakened  her  darling 
from  her  sleep,  '  Wake  up,  little  one,'  He  says. 

And  as  He  speaks  the  child  heaves  a  deep  sigh,  a  faint 
colour  steals  back  into  her  pale  cheeks,  and  she  opens  her 
eyes — to  find  herself  back  in  her  little  room,  to  meet  the 
tender  smile  of  Jesus,  and  the  next  moment  to  be  clasped 
in  her  mother's  loving  arms. 


tui-f-'-wa"'  -/"^iw 


t^^-^'^ii}^iiSi^mmt^mi..^4>mri^ 


THK    RAISING    OF   JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER 


THE  KING'S  AMBASSADORS  201 

How  like  a  dream  this  awakening  of  the  little  maid 
must  have  seemed  to  those  who  stood  by ;  but  it  was  no 
dream,  as  they  were  reminded  by  the  next  words  Jesus 
spoke,  bidding  them  give  her  something  to  eat.  Once 
again,  as  at  pleasant  Nain,  Jesus  had  proved  Himself  the 
Lord  of  Life.  He  had  been  called  to  Jairus'  house  to 
heal  a  sick  child,  and  He  had  turned  the  shadow  of  death 
into  the  morning. 

As  Jesus  left  the  ruler's  house,  two  blind  men  met 
Him  on  the  way  and  followed  Him  home,  beseeching 
Him  to  have  compassion  upon  them.  Jesus  asked  them 
whether  they  believed  that  He  had  power  to  give  them 
back  their  sight,  and  on  their  answering  eagerly,  '  Yea, 
Lord,'  He  touched  their  eyes  and  immediately  they  were 
healed.  Later  on  in  the  evening  a  wretched,  tongue-tied 
demoniac  was  brought  to  Him,  and  Jesus,  with  one  word 
of  power,  drove  out  the  tormenting  devil  from  the  man, 
and  unlocked  his  poor  dumb  lips. 

We  saw  that  when  Jesus  chose  His  twelve  apostles, 
He  chose  them  to  aid  Him  in  His  great  task  of  setting 
up  God's  Kingdom  upon  earth.  All  this  time  He  had 
been  training  them  for  the  work  that  lay  before  them  ;  He 
had  been  touching  their  hearts  with  something  of  His 
own  eagerness  and  enthusiasm  in  the  service  of  the  king- 
dom. Now  the  time  had  come  to  put  them  to  the  test. 
Oh,  how  the  sin  and  sorrow  of  the  world  weighed  on  Jesus' 
loving  heart !  How  He  longed  to  lift  the  burden  of  the 
sin  away  and  lighten  the  sorrow  I  He  was  always  thinking 
of  the  poor,  wandering,  weary  souls  around  Him,  so  badly 
in  want  of  God,  and  yet  knowing  so  little  about  Him.  It 
was  the  thought  of  their  misery  and  blindness  that  helped 
to  make  His  own  life  so  sad.  They  seemed  to  Him  just 
like  sheep  straying  in  the  darkness  upon  some  desolate, 
wolf-haunted  moor,  without  a  shepherd,  shelterless  and 


202  THE  CHILD  S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

lost.  He  could  not  rest  until  they  were  gathered  safely 
into  the  fold  of  God. 

Calling  the  twelve  together,  Jesus  sends  them  out  on 
a  great  preaching  mission  throughout  Galilee.  He  directs 
them  how  they  are  to  go — not  singly,  but  two  and  two, 
as  comrades  in  the  work,  each  leaning  on  a  brother's  arm. 
He  bids  them  go,  looking  with  simple  trust  to  God  to 
supply  their  wants,  taking  no  provision  basket  with  them, 
no  gold  nor  silver  in  their  purse,  nor  change  of  clothing  nor 
travelling  sandals  for  the  way.  He  speaks  to  them  of  the 
many  dangers  that  lay  before  them,  and  of  the  protecting 
hand  of  God  that  was  able  to  keep  them  safe — a  hand 
stretched  out  to  shield  even  the  little  brown  sparrow  that 
makes  its  nest  in  the  eaves.  He  tells  them  that  in  His 
service  they  must  be  ready  to  give  and  hazard  all,  but 
He  tells  them  at  the  same  time  that  the  post  of  hardship 
and  peril  should  be  the  post  of  honour.  As  the  King  s 
ambassadors  they  should  take  rank  with  the  King  Him- 
self. Even  a  cup  of  cold  water  given  to  one  of  the 
humblest  among  them,  for  His  sake,  should  not  fail  of 
its  reward. 

It  was  while  the  apostles  were  absent  on  the  King's 
service  that  the  murder  of  St.  John  the  Baptist  took 
place.  Afterwards,  when  they  had  gone  through  Galilee, 
preaching  the  good  news  of  the  Kingdom  and  healing  the 
sick,  they  returned  to  Jesus  and  began  to  tell  Him  of  all 
that  had  befallen  them  and  to  give  an  account  of  their 
work. 

Jesus  had  much  to  say  to  them  in  return,  but  He 
wanted  a  quiet  place  to  say  it  in.  He  knew  besides  how 
heavy  the  labours  of  His  disciples  had  been  and  how  much 
they  needed  rest,  and  so  He  determined  to  leave  the 
busy  streets  of  Capernaum  for  awhile,  and  to  go  to  some 
green  secluded  spot  among  the  distant  hills,  where  they 


THE  MIRACLE  OF  THE  FIVE  LOAVES     203 

miirlit  be  alone  and  undisturbed.  And  so  He  bade  St. 
Peter  make  ready  the  little  fishing-boat,  and  presently 
the  oars  are  flashing  and  the  boat  begins  to  steal  across 
the  smooth  waters  of  the  lake  in  the  direction  of  the  town 
of  Bethsaida  Julias.  Landing  a  little  below  the  town, 
Jesus  and  His  disciples  took  their  way  inland  until  they 
reached  the  spot  they  sought,  a  narrow  green  plain 
hemmed  in  by  a  circle  of  surrounding  hills. 

But  that  day  at  least  they  were  not  to  find  the  quiet 
and  the  rest  of  which  they  were  in  need.  A  great  multi- 
tude of  Capernaum  folks,  seeing  the  disciples  launch  their 
boat,  and  marking  the  course  it  was  taking,  followed  for 
miles  along  the  seashore,  and,  crossing  the  waters  of  the 
Jordan  just  where  they  entered  the  lake,  came  up  with 
Jesus  in  the  place  which  He  had  chosen  as  his  resting- 
place.  It  was  Passover-time,  and  the  crowd  of  wistful, 
anxious  faces  every  moment  grew  larger;  for,  hearing 
that  the  great  Prophet  of  Nazareth  was  near  at  hand, 
many  of  the  pilgrims  to  Jerusalem  began  to  turn  aside 
from  the  main  road  and  to  gather  around  Jesus  as  well. 

The  patient  Christ  had  not  the  heart  to  turn  these  poor 
shepherdless  sheep  away.  Tired  and  fasting  as  He  was.  He 
went  among  them,  and  laying  His  hands  on  the  sick  He 
healed  them  all.  Then  standing  in  their  midst  He  began 
to  speak  to  them  the  words  they  were  hungering  so  to  hear. 
The  hours  passed  by  and  still  He  spoke  and  still  the  people 
listened,  sad  fiices  brightening  and  sad  hearts  growing 
glad  as  He  told  them  of  the  Great  Father's  love  for  His 
wanderinc:  children,  and  of  the  beautiful  land  of  Heaven 
with  its  green  pastures  and  still  waters  where  no  one  was 
ever  weary  or  hungry  or  in  pain. 

By  the  time  Jesus  had  finished  speaking  the  sun  was 
low  in  the  western  sky,  and  the  hills  began  to  cast  their 
great  violet  shadows  across  the  plain.     It   was  getting 


204  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

late  and  the  disciples  were  growing  uneasy.  What  was 
to  be  done  with  the  crowd  that  still  lingered  around  the 
Master?  Among  the  rough-bearded  men  there  were 
many  women  and  little  children,  and  they  were  all  hungry 
and  footsore  and  far  from  home,  and  darkness  was  closing 
in.  Would  it  not  be  best  to  get  rid  of  them  without 
delay  ? 

*Lord,  send  them  away,'  they  urge,  'that  they 
may  go  to  the  towns  and  villages  and  buy  themselves 
bread.'  But  Jesus  makes  this  strange  reply,  '  They  need 
not  go  away — give  ye  them  to  eat.'  How  amazed  the 
disciples  must  have  been  when  they  heard  these  words. 
Where  could  they  obtain  food  to  feed  so  many 
thousands  ? 

Jesus  turns  to  Philip,  and  to  test  his  faith  asks  him  this 
very  question,  *  Whence  shall  we  buy  bread  that  these 
may  eat  ? '  Alas  !  Philip's  faith  is  but  weak,  Hke  that  of 
the  rest.  He  hesitates ;  it  might  be  possible  to  buy  the 
bread  in  some  neighbouring  village,  he  thinks — but  how 
to  pay  for  it  ?  'It  would  cost,'  he  answers  slowly,  '  at 
least  two  hundred  silver  pennies  (more  than  seven  pounds) 
to  give  every  one  in  the  crowd  a  little  mouthful.'  Jesus 
turns  again  to  the  disciples.  '  How  many  loaves  have 
ye  ? '  He  asks.     '  Go  and  see.' 

There  was  a  little  lad  among  the  crowd  who  was 
carrying  a  basket  of  provisions  slung  upon  his  back. 
Perhaps  he  was  standing  near  Jesus  at  the  time  and  over- 
heard His  words.  If  so,  we  can  fancy  him  timidly  pluck- 
ing at  St.  Andrew's  robe  as  he  went  by  to  do  Jesus' 
bidding,  and  pointing  eagerly  to  his  own  little  store  of 
food.  Would  this  be  of  any  use  ?  Half  doubtfully 
St.  Andrew  leads  him  to  Jesus,  and  the  little  lad,  his 
eyes  shining  with  love,  spreads  his  offering  out  before 
the  Master.     It  was  not  a  very  grand  offering,  only  five 


THE   MIKACLK   OK   TllK    LOAVES 


THE  MIRACLE  OF  THE  FIVE  LOAVES     205 

small,  round  cakes  of  barley  bread  and  two  little  dried 
fishes,  but  it  was  all  he  had  to  give,  and  Jesus  was  pleased 
to  accept  the  gift  and  to  turn  it  to  wonderful  account. 

'  Make  the  men  sit  down,'  He  said,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  the  great  company — five  thousand  men,  besides 
women  and  children — was  seated  on  the  green  grass  in 
long  ranks,  their  gay  dresses  of  blue  and  red  and  saffron 
turning  the  plain  into  a  very  garden  of  flowers. 

Then  Jesus  took  the  loaves  and  fishes  in  His  hands, 
and,  raising  His  eyes  to  Heaven  in  prayer.  He  blessed 
them,  and,  breaking  them  into  pieces.  He  gave  them  into 
the  hands  of  His  disciples  to  distribute  among  the  multi- 
tude. And  up  and  down  the  long  lines  went  the  disciples, 
giving  the  food  into  the  eager,  stretched-out  hands  of  the 
hungry  thousands;  and  lo  !  as  the  loaves  and  fishes  passed 
from  hand  to  hand,  instead  of  wasting  they  increased. 
The  more  was  given  away  the  more  remained,  until  after 
all  had  eaten  and  been  satisfied,  the  disciples,  at  Jesus' 
command,  gathered  twelve  large  wicker  baskets  with  the 
broken  fragments  that  were  strewn  upon  the  grass — 

*  For  when  the  Master  blessed  and  brake 

The  loaves  grew  large  and  fair. 
The  food  was  sweet  for  His  dear  sake 

To  those  who  feasted  there. 
And  as  among  the  crowd  the  boy 

Beheld  his  gifts  increase. 
He  had  a  new  and  deeper  joy 

In  Christ's  own  smile  of  peace. 

'And  still  Christ  takes  the  children's  store 

Of  loving  thought  and  deed. 
And  uses  them  for  evermore 

To  help  the  great  world's  need  ; 
And  whoso  makes  one  mourner  glad 

Or  speaks  one  healing  word, 
Shall  gather  like  the  little  lad 

A  wonderful  reward.' 


206  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

There  was  a  belief  among  the  Jews  that  when  the 
Christ  should  come  He  would  feed  the  hungry  with  good 
things  in  the  wilderness,  just  as  Moses  had  fed  them  in 
time  of  old  with  the  manna.  After  the  crowd  had  been 
fed,  therefore,  the  whisper  began  to  pass  from  lip  to  lip, 
'  Has  the  King  come  at  last  ?  Can  it  be  that  this  is 
indeed  the  Christ  ? ' 

Every  moment  the  excitement  grows.  It  seems  that 
the  multitude  are  all  for  marching  to  Jerusalem  with 
Jesus  at  their  head,  and  setting  Him  on  the  throne  of 
David.  But  the  path  Jesus  had  come  to  tread  was  not 
the  path  of  earthly  glory ;  it  was  the  Way  of  Sorrows,  and 
it  wound  uphill,  not  to  a  throne,  but  to  the  hard  and  bitter 
Cross.  Facing  the  eager  crowd  He  speaks  a  few  quiet 
words,  and  the  tumult  dies  down.  Then  bidding  His 
disciples  return  to  the  seashore  and  take  boat  for  Caper- 
naum, He  begins  to  send  the  people  away  to  their  homes. 

By  this  time  it  was  quite  dark.  Presently  the  great 
white  Paschal  moon  began  to  lift  its  silver  edge  above 
the  hills,  and  Jesus,  guided  by  its  light,  climbed  to  the 
topmost  peak  of  one  of  the  mountains  overlooking  the 
lake.  There  upon  the  dewy  grass,  under  the  open  sky, 
solitary  and  alone,  save  for  the  angel  forms  that  bent 
above  Him,  He  knelt  in  prayer.  The  hours  passed  by 
and  left  Him  kneeling  still,  until  the  far-off  lights  of 
Capernaum,  that  twinkled  along  the  shore,  began  one  by 
one  to  disappear,  and  only  the  light  of  the  stars  remained. 

Meanwhile  the  disciples  had  waited  long  for  the 
Master,  but  finding  He  did  not  come  they  at  last  un- 
willingly set  out  without  Him.  There  was  no  hint  in 
sea  or  sky  of  coming  danger  as  they  loosed  their  boat 
from  the  shore ;  the  sea,  '  God's  sapphire,'  was  smooth 
and  fjiir,  and  the  silent  sky  was  bright  with  stars. 
But  when  they  had  rowed  between  two  and  three  miles 


THE  STILLING  OF  THE  STORM         207 

out  to  sea  the  wind  began  to  rise;  great  gusts  came 
sweeping  down  upon  the  lake  from  the  deep  mountain 
gulhes,  and,  toil  at  the  oars  as  they  might,  they  could 
not  beat  a  way  for  themselves  through  the  boisterous 
waves  that  dashed  against  the  boat. 

Hours  passed  by  and  still  the  storm  raged  on,  and  this 
time  there  was  no  Jesus  with  them  to  smooth  the  rough 
billows  and  say  to  the  wind,  '  Peace,  be  still ! ' 

At  last,  when  things  seemed  at  their  very  worst,  the 
help  they  so  sorely  needed  came  to  the  disciples.  Jesus 
on  the  mountain-top  had  been  looking  out  over  the 
stormy  deep.  Kneeling  there  He  could  hear  the  howling 
of  the  wind  and  the  roar  of  the  angry  billows  beating 
against  the  cliffs.  He  could  see  afar  off  the  little  boat 
tossing  among  the  waves,  and  the  oars  slowly  rising  and 
falling,  and  His  heart  grew  very  pitiful  towards  those 
poor,  tempest-driven  souls  in  their  weariness  and  loneli- 
ness and  despair.  And  so,  just  before  daybreak,  when 
the  night  was  darkest,  He  came  down  and  '  entered  into 
the  springs  of  the  sea.' 

And  how  did  He  come  ?  It  was  quite  dark  on  the 
water,  and  the  disciples  were  still  wearily  tugging  at  the 
oars,  when  suddenly  through  the  driving  clouds  the 
moon  leaped  out,  and  there  upon  the  wild  waters  they 
saw  a  shining  form  coming  towards  them  out  of  the  night. 
It  was  Jesus,  and  as  He  drew  nearer  they  could  see  the 
sullen  waves  sinking  beneath  His  tread,  and  the  water 
under  His  feet  calming  itself  into  a  pavement  of  trans- 
parent glass,  clear  as  crystal,  '  having  the  glory  of  God.' 

They  did  not  know  Him  at  first.  Huddled  together 
in  the  boat  they  cried  out  in  terror,  thinking  it  was  a 
spirit.  But  even  as  they  cried  out,  an  answering  voice 
— a  voice  they  knew  so  well  and  had  learned  to  love  so 
dearly — rang  out  clearly  above  tiie  noise  of  the  tempest. 


203  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

*  Be  of  good  cheer ;  it  is  I ;  be  not  afraid,'  and  they  knew 
that  it  was  Jesus. 

From  his  place  in  the  boat  Simon  Peter  gazes  eagerly 
across  the  troubled  waters.  So  great  is  his  joy  at  hearing 
his  Master's  voice,  so  intense  his  longing  to  be  close 
beside  Him  once  more,  he  has  not  patience  to  wait  for 
Jesus  to  enter  the  boat.  'Lord,  since  it  is  Thou,  bid 
me  come  unto  Thee  on  the  water,'  he  cries ;  and  Jesus 
answers  *  Come,'  and  in  a  trice  St.  Peter  is  clambering 
over  the  vessel's  side  and  has  entered  the  sea. 

For  one  wonderful  moment,  borne  up  by  his  faith  in 
Jesus,  he  walks  upon  the  waves  as  though  upheld  by  the 
invisible  hand  of  an  angel ;  but  it  is  only  for  a  moment. 
There  comes  a  furious  gust  of  wind,  he  feels  the  blinding 
spray  in  his  face,  and  his  heart  fails  him  for  fear,  as  a  great 
wall  of  toppling  water  rises  before  him  and  quite  shuts 
out  the  shining  figure  of  Jesus  from  his  sight.  The  same 
instant  he  is  fighting  for  his  life  in  the  clutch  of  the 
pitiless  waves,  in  danger  of  being  sucked  down  into 
the  depths  of  the  sea. 

'  Lord,  save  me,  I  perish.'  St.  Peter  had  only  just 
time  to  gasp  out  these  words,  but  they  saved  his  life. 
Almost  before  they  had  passed  his  lips,  Jesus  was  by  his 
side  and  was  holding  him  up.  '  O  thou  of  little  faith,' 
He  says,  in  tones  of  loving  reproach,  *  wherefore  didst 
thou  doubt  ? '  Poor  Simon  Peter  was  too  breathless  to 
answer;  he  could  only  cling  the  more  tightly  to  Jesus' 
outstretched  hand.  Now  that  he  had  hold  of  that,  he 
felt  quite  safe.  He  knew  what  a  strong  hand  it  was ;  its 
tender,  loving  pressure  gave  him  back  the  courage  he  had 
lost ;  he  felt  he  could  never,  never  lose  faith  in  Jesus 
again. 

Then  Jesus  and  St.  Peter  entered  the  fishing-boat 
together,  and  as  soon  as  Jesus  was  come  on  board  the 


THE  STILLING  OF  THE  STORM        209 

wind  died  down  and  the  waves  sank  to  rest.  Another 
moment,  and  the  boat  had  glided  through  the  ripplin*' 
waters  into  the  quiet  haven  w^here  Jesus  would  liavc  it  be, 
and  the  disciples  were  kneeling  at  His  feet,  giving  Him 
thanks  and  hailing  Him  with  humble,  adoring  hearts  as 
the  Son  of  God. 


XIII 

CHRIST  THE  BREAD   OF  LIFE — THE  HEATHEN  WOMAN  WHO 
DESIRED    TO    BE    FED   WITH   THE  CRUMBS  WHICH   FELL 

FROM     JESUS'     TABLE THE     DEAF     MAN     WITH     THE 

STAMMERING     TONGUE     IN     DECAPOLIS THE     SEVEN 

LOAVES    WHICH    FED    FOUR   THOUSAND 

Of  the  great  multitude  sent  away  by  Jesus,  after  He  had 
so  wonderfully  satisfied  their  hunger  with  the  five  barley 
loaves  and  two  small  fishes,  some  returned  to  their  homes  ; 
others,  the  Passover  pilgrims,  continued  their  journey 
towards  Jerusalem. 

There  were  many,  however,  who,  after  the  rest  had 
gone,  still  lingered  on  the  outskirts  of  the  plain;  and  these 
spent  the  night  in  the  open  air,  sleeping  upon  the  grass, 
wrapped  in  their  warm  woollen  cloaks.  AVhen  morning 
dawned  once  more,  little  groups  of  these  men  began  to 
collect  together,  and  to  inquire  eagerly  among  themselves 
as  to  what  had  become  of  the  Prophet  Jesus.  They  had 
watched  Him  climb  the  hill  in  the  gathering  twilight; 
they  knew  the  disciples  had  put  out  to  sea  without  Him, 
and  so  they  felt  sure  that  He  must  be  somewhere  near  at 
hand.  But,  search  as  they  might,  Jesus  was  nowhere  to 
be  found.  At  last,  in  their  perplexity,  they  went  down 
to  the  beach,  and  entering  into  some  of  the  many  boats, 
that,  like  a  flock  of  weary  sea-birds,  had  been  driven 
ashore  to  seek  shelter  from  the  gale  of  the  night  before, 
they  set  sail  for  Capernaum. 


CHRIST  THE  BREAD  OF  LIFE  211 

It  was  one  of  the  days  of  public  worship,  and  when 
they  came  to  Capernaum  they  found  Jesus  teaching  in 
tlie  great  white  marble  synagogue.  As  they  crowded 
into  the  building  they  began  to  question  Him  as  to  how 
He  had  come  tiiere,  but  He  made  no  answer  to  their 
eager  inquiries.  He  knew  why  they  were  so  anxious 
to  find  Him ;  it  was  because  they  were  still  bent  on 
making  Him  a  king.  With  a  king  upon  the  throne 
of  David  they  thought  there  would  be  riches  and  plenty 
for  every  one ;  fine  houses  and  soft  clothing,  and  well- 
filled  money-bags  for  the  asking.  Best  of  all,  the  hated 
Roman  would  be  driven  away,  and  their  country  would 
once  more  regain  its  ancient  glory. 

If  He  could  only  make  them  see  how  little  the 
earthly  splendour  and  plenty  were  worth  in  comparison 
with  the  Heavenly  treasure ;  if  they  would  only  be 
persuaded  to  labour,  not  for  the  things  which  pass  away 
and  perish  in  the  using,  but  for  the  things  which  really 
satisfy  and  which  last  for  ever  ! 

Sitting  before  them  in  the  crowded  synagogue  Jesus 
began  to  speak  to  them  of  the  Bread  of  God,  the 
wonderful  food  which  God  had  sent  from  Heaven  to 
feed  a  hungry  world.  They  thought  at  first  He  was 
speaking  of  some  wonderful  bread  such  as  they  had  lately 
tasted  in  the  wilderness,  but  Jesus  was  really  speaking 
about  Himself  *  I  am  the  Bread  of  Life,'  He  said.  '  He 
that  Cometh  to  JNIe  shall  never  hunger,  and  he  that 
believeth  on  INIe  shall  never  thirst.' 

How  grandly  these  w'ords  of  Jesus  must  have  rung 
out  that  morning  in  the  Capernaum  synagogue ;  and  yet 
on  many  ears  they  fell  with  a  strange  unwelcome  sound. 
The  people  began  to  murmur.  How  could  Jesus,  whose 
earthly  history  they  knew  so  well,  have  come  down  from 
Heaven  ?     And  when  He  went  on  to  speak  of  the  Bread 


212  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

which  He  should  give  being  His  flesh,  which  He  should 
give  for  the  life  of  the  world,  they  grew  more  perplexed 
and  angry  still.  *  How  can  this  man  give  us  His  flesh 
to  eat  ? '  they  asked  impatiently.  Even  some  of  Jesus' 
own  followers  asked  the  same  question,  and  because  the 
answer  was  hard  to  find  they  went  away  and  walked  no 
more  with  Him.  Ah!  if  they  had  only  had  a  little 
patience ;  if  they  had  only  been  content  to  take  Jesus' 
words  on  trust  for  a  little  while,  until  the  time  came  for 
Him  to  explain  them.  We  look  on  a  little,  and  we  see 
the  picture  of  a  little  upper  room  in  Jerusalem,  through 
whose  narrow  windows  the  silver  light  of  the  Paschal 
moon  is  softly  shining. 

There  in  the  midst  among  His  disciples.  His  face 
bright  with  the  glory  of  unspeakable  love,  is  Jesus.  The 
room  is  full  of  angels,  only  we  cannot  see  them.  As  we 
look,  Jesus  takes  bread  and  blesses  it,  and  breaks  it  and 
gives  it  to  the  apostles,  saying,  *Take,  eat;  this  is  My 
Body  which  is  given  for  you.  This  do  in  remembrance 
of  Me.'  It  is  the  first  institution  of  the  Holy  Communion. 
Then  as  the  picture  fades  away  we  see  the  disciples 
kneeling  at  their  Master's  feet,  their  eager  hands  out- 
stretched to  take  the  precious  Gift.  There  is  no  shadow 
of  doubt  or  perplexity  upon  their  faces  now,  only  the 
light  of  a  great  awe  and  gladness.  The  dark  saying 
spoken  of  old  at  Capernaum  has  become  clear  at  last. 

Jesus  was  grieved  and  disappointed  to  find  that 
directly  He  began  to  speak  of  high,  mysterious  things 
His  disciples  began  to  draw  away  from  Him.  Was 
there  no  one  who  had  faith  enough  to  trust  Him? 
Was  this  but  the  beginning  of  the  end,  when  all 
should  forsake  the  Man  of  Sorrows  and  leave  Him 
to  tread  the  thorny  path  to  death  unbefriended  and 
alone  ?      Turning   to   His   disciples,    '  Will    ye   also   go 


THE  WASHING  OF  HANDS  213 

away?'  He  sadly  asks.  Like  some  sharp  sword-thrust 
His  words  pierced  to  their  very  hearts.  Leave  their 
Master  ?  Why,  for  whom  should  they  leave  Him  ? 
What  friend  had  they  in  all  the  world  like  Jesus  ? 
Whose  voice  had  power  to  speak  peace  to  their  troubled 
souls  like  His  ?  And  Simon  Peter  answered  and  said, 
*  Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go  ?  Thou  hast  the  words  of 
eternal  life.  And  we  believe  and  are  sure  that  Thou  art 
that  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God.' 

About  this  time  the  Pharisees  attacked  Jesus  because 
He  did  not  insist  upon  His  disciples  observing  the  proper 
form  of  washing  the  hands.  Jesus  answered  that  to  eat 
with  unwashed  hands  did  not  defile  a  man,  it  was  the 
evil  thoughts  that  he  encouraged  in  his  heart  that  defiled 
him,  it  was  the  evil  words  he  spoke  and  the  evil  deeds  of 
which  he  was  guilty.  The  Pharisees  themselves  were 
the  real  law-breakers.  He  said,  for  by  their  rules  about 
things  which  did  not  matter,  they  were  breaking  the  rule 
of  God's  commandments  and  bringing  His  religion  into 
contempt.  What  did  clean  hands  signify,  if  the  heart 
within  were  full  of  hypocrisy  and  uncleanness  ? 

Again  Jesus  left  Galilee  and  made  His  way  towards 
the  coasts  of  Tyre  and  Sidon.  These  were  the  two  chief 
cities  of  Phoenicia,  a  strip  of  country  stretching  along  the 
seacoast  to  the  north  of  Palestine,  and  famous  as  one  of 
the  great  trading  centres  of  the  world.  The  stately  ships 
of  Tyre  sailed  every  sea,  even  as  far  as  distant  Britain, 
bringing  back  rich  cargoes  of  wheat  and  honey,  ivory  and 
spices,  gold  and  precious  stones ;  the  streets  of  Sidon 
were  thronged  with  traders  in  *  blue  robes  and  broidered 
work ' ;  her  merchandise  poured  in  from  every  country ; 
her  weavers  and  embroiderers,  her  workers  in  glass  and 
artists  in  gold  and  coloured  gems  were  famous  every- 
where.    But  Jesus  did  not  enter  into  either  of  these  great 


214  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

cities.  He  did  not  wish  to  attract  attention  or  to  be 
followed  about  by  curious  crowds ;  He  wished  to  remain 
quite  unknown.  But  He  could  not  be  hid.  '  People,'  it 
has  been  said,  '  are  sure  to  find  out  any  one  who  is  worth 
finding  out ' ;  and  another  writes,  '  You  may  hide  sweet 
flowers  so  that  they  cannot  be  seen,  but  the  fragrance 
they  shed  will  soon  disclose  their  hiding-place.'  So  it 
was  with  Jesus. 

There  was  a  poor  woman  of  Canaan,  one  of  the 
descendants  of  those  old  savage  tribes  which  had  been 
driven  out  of  Palestine  by  Joshua,  who  came  where  He 
was.  She  had  a  daughter  who  was  possessed  by  a  devil, 
and  she  came  to  Jesus  in  order  to  ask  His  help.  She 
was  a  heathen,  this  poor  mother,  and  had  been  brought 
up  to  worship  strange  gods — Astarte,  moon  goddess  of  the 
Phoenicians,  and  savage  Baal,  whose  altars  smoked  with 
the  blood  of  human  sacrifices.  But,  living  on  the  borders 
of  Palestine,  she  had  doubtless  heard  of  the  One  True 
God,  and  the  name  of  Jesus,  the  famous  Prophet  and 
Healer  of  Galilee,  was  familiar  to  her ;  for  already,  we 
are  told.  His  fame  had  gone  throughout  all  Syria.  The 
Jews,  she  knew,  despised  the  Gentiles,  and  she  was  a 
Gentile  and  a  heathen  as  well,  but  who  could  tell  ?  The 
Prophet  might  be  merciful  and  kind ;  there  was  a  chance 
at  any  rate  that  He  might  listen  to  her  prayer.  And  so 
she  came  to  Jesus  and  besought  Him  with  tears,  to  cast 
out  the  devil  from  her  daughter. 

And  how  did  Jesus  treat  her — this  loving  Saviour  who 
had  a  kind  word  for  every  one  in  trouble  and  turned  none 
away  ? 

He  answered  her  not  a  word.  How  the  poor  aching 
heart  of  the  mother  must  have  sunk ;  yet  she  did  not 
give  up  hope.  She  did  just  what  we  must  do  when  we 
pray  and  God  seems  to  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  our  prayers. 


THE  WOMAN  OF  SYRO-PHCENICIA      215 

She  kept  on  asking;  her  prayer  became  more  and  more 
earnest  the  more  unwilling  Jesus  seemed  to  listen. 

At  last,  annoyed  at  her  sad,  continual  crying,  the 
disciples  besought  Jesus  to  send  her  away.  '  She  is 
crying  after  us,'  they  said  impatiently.  And  Jesus 
answers  them  in  tones  loud  enough  perhaps  for  the 
woman  to  hear,  '  I  am  not  sent  but  unto  the  lost  sheep  of 
the  house  of  Israel.'  At  this  the  poor  despairing  mother 
fell  at  His  feet  with  the  cry,  'Lord,  help  me.'  She 
thought  of  her  poor  daughter  lying  on  her  bed  in  the 
power  of  the  evil  spirit ;  she  seemed  to  hear  her  moans 
and  to  see  the  sad,  appealing  look  in  her  eyes,  and  she  felt 
as  if  her  mother's  heart  must  break.  Oh,  if  Jesus  knew 
all — all  the  misery  and  sadness  of  her  child,  surely  He 
would  have  some  pity.  But  Jesus  only  answers,  '  It  is 
not  meet  to  take  the  children's  bread,  and  to  cast  it  to 
the  dogs.' 

That  is  the  only  comfort  she  gets,  the  only  kindness 
and  compassion  she  is  treated  with.  Surely  she  will  give 
up  her  hopeless  struggle  after  this  and  go  back  with  sad 
and  bitter  heart,  to  try  what  her  old  idols  of  Syria  will  do 
for  her,  since  this  new  Teacher  is  so  stern  and  pitiless. 

But  no!  she  is  not  conquered  yet.  Did  she  catch, 
we  wonder,  a  look  in  Jesus'  eyes  which  gave  her  courage, 
although  His  words  sounded  so  harsh  and  forbidding? 
We  cannot  tell ;  at  any  rate,  she  prays  more  earnestly 
than  ever.  '  Yes,  Lord,  yet  the  little  dogs  under  the 
table  eat  of  the  children's  crumbs.  You  call  me  a  dog ; 
well  then,  Master,  treat  me  like  one.  The  dogs  under 
the  table  are  fed  with  the  broken  fragments  which  the 
children  leave  when  the  meal  is  over.  Let  some  crumbs 
of  your  mercy  and  compassion  be  thrown  to  me.  I  ask 
nothing  more.'  And  she  conquered  at  last!  Jesus  only 
seemed  to  refuse  her  prayer  in  order  to  put  her  to  the 


216  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

test,  to  try  the  kind  of  stuff  her  faith  was  made  of.  He 
dealt  with  her,  in  other  words,  just  as  God  often  deals 
with  us.  All  the  while  He  seemed  to  be  thrusting  her 
back  He  was  really  drawing  her  closer  to  His  loving 
heart.  And  now  that  same  voice,  that  but  a  moment  ago 
spoke  so  roughly  and  unkindly  as  it  seemed,  addresses  her 
in  gentle,  cheering,  compassionate  tones,  '  O  woman, 
great  is  thy  faith  ;  be  it  unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt.'  So 
the  story  runs  in  St.  Matthew,  or  as  it  is  given  in 
St.  Mark,  '  For  this  saying,  go  thy  way  ;  the  devil  is  gone 
out  of  thy  daughter.'  And  the  mother  goes  her  way, 
and  finds  it  even  as  Jesus  had  said.  She  had  been  tried 
in  the  fire  and  had  come  out  pure  gold.  Like  Jacob  in 
the  Old  Testament  story  when  he  was  wrestling  with  the 
angel,  she  had  clung  to  Jesus,  and  cried,  '  I  will  not  let 
Thee  go  except  Thou  bless  me.'  Like  Jacob,  she  had 
power  with  God  and  prevailed. 

Jesus  did  not  remain  long  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Tyre  and  Sidon.  Accompanied  by  His  little  band  of 
followers.  He  set  out  eastwards,  and,  threading  His  way 
through  the  mountain  passes  of  green  Lebanon  and  snowy 
Hermon,  travelled  down  the  valley  of  the  upper  Jordan, 
until  He  reached  the  coasts  of  Decapolis,  a  large,  half- 
heathen  district  to  the  east  and  south-east  of  the  Sea  of 
Galilee. 

The  ten  cities  after  which  the  region  was  called  had 
once  belonged  to  the  Jews,  but  had  passed  out  of  their 
hands  at  the  Captivity.  Rebuilt  and  beautified  by  the 
Romans  on  their  conquest  of  the  country,  they  were  now 
inhabited  by  a  mixed  race  of  many  nationalities.  Jewish 
merchants  and  Greek  traders  trafficked  in  the  same 
market-places,  Syrians  and  Arabs  jostled  one  another 
in  the  streets ;  and  in  every  city,  side  by  side  with  the 
little  synagogue,  could  be  seen  the  great  heathen  temple 


THE  DEAF  AND  DUMB  MAN  217 

towering  on  high,  adorned  with  its  statues  of  strange 
gods,  and  hung  with  paintings  and  tapestries  and  other 
rich  offerings  of  its  worsliippers. 

Half-heathen  as  the  people  of  Decapolis  were,  how- 
ever, they  gladly  received  Jesus,  and  during  His  stay 
amongst  them  many  of  their  sick  felt  the  healing  touch 
of  His  blessed  hands. 

Among  the  other  sufferers  who  came  to  Him  was  a 
deaf  man,  who  had  an  impediment  in  his  speech.  Taking 
the  sufferer  by  the  hand  Jesus  led  him  to  some  quiet  place, 
away  from  the  busy,  curious  crowd.  Then,  perhaps  to 
help  his  faith  and  to  encourage  him  to  believe  that  his  case 
was  not  a  hopeless  one.  He  put  His  fingers  into  the  poor, 
deaf  ears  and  touched  the  stammering  tongue.  After 
this.  He  looked  up  to  Heaven,  and  with  a  sigh,  partly  of 
sorrow  for  the  man  himself,  partly  of  grief  at  the  thought 
of  all  the  misery  and  suffering  that  sin  had  brought  into 
the  world,  He  said,  '  Ephatha  ' — be  opened.  And  at  His 
word  the  deaf  man's  ears  were  unstopped  and  the  string 
of  his  tongue  was  loosed,  and  he  spoke  plainly. 

Jesus,  to  avoid  being  thronged  by  idle  crowds,  gave 
orders  that  the  miracle  should  not  be  made  known,  but 
the  friends  of  the  man  who  had  been  cured  could  not 
contain  their  joy  and  happiness,  and  went  about  spreading 
the  news  everywhere.  '  He  hath  done  all  things  well,' 
they  said.  '  He  maketh  both  the  deaf  to  hear  and  the 
dumb  to  speak.' 

Dear  child,  the  people  who  spoke  these  words  were 
probably  heathen  people  and  really  knew  very  little  about 
Jesus,  but  yet  how  true  their  words  were.  If  we  wanted 
a  motto  for  the  Wonderful  Life  could  we  have  a  better 
one  than  this,  '  He  hath  done  all  things  well '  ?  Think  of 
all  the  great  and  lovely  lives  you  have  ever  known  or 
read  of,  and  you  will  not  find  one  without  some  flaw. 


218  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

But  how  different  it  is  with  Jesus.  Whether  we  think  of 
Him  as  the  little  Child  learning  His  lessons  at  Mary's 
knee,  or  as  the  gentle  Boy  serving  Joseph  in  the 
carpenter's  shop  at  Nazareth  ;  whether  He  comes  before 
us  as  the  mighty  Healer,  able  to  cure  every  sickness  and 
disease,  or  the  great  Teacher  and  Consoler,  showing  men 
the  way  to  God  and  binding  up  the  wounds  of  sin  and 
sorrow,  we  can  truthfully  say  of  His  life  that  we  find  no 
fault  in  it  at  all. 

And  yet  men  hated  Him.  Does  it  not  seem  strange  ? 
His  own  people  rejected  Him.  In  the  end,  the  world 
nailed  Him,  its  best  Friend,  to  the  Cross ! 

From  Decapolis  Jesus  turned  His  steps  once  more 
towards  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  As  He  journeyed,  the  people 
flocked  around  Him,  as  men  flock  around  the  banner  of 
a  king  when  he  goes  through  the  land  gathering  soldiers 
for  his  train.  He  was  now  in  a  desert  place  among  the 
mountains,  and  as  the  half-heathen  people  gathered  about 
Him  from  all  parts.  He  healed  their  sick,  and  standing  on 
the  slope  of  one  of  the  hills  He  spoke  to  them  of  the  One 
True  God,  who  '  made  Heaven  and  earth,  the  sea  and  all 
that  therein  is,  who  keepeth  His  promise  for  ever.'  He 
told  them,  can  we  doubt  it  ?  that  the  heathen  were  His 
children  as  well  as  the  Jews,  and  that  God  loved  them 
and  willed  to  do  them  good,  and  had  sent  His  Son  to 
gather  all  the  world  into  His  fold.  Painters  have  painted 
wonderful  pictures  of  Jesus  as  King  in  His  royal  robes 
and  with  a  halo  of  gold  around  His  brow,  but  hardly  any 
picture  is  so  beautiful  as  this  one  of  the  Good  Shepherd, 
tending  the  lost  and  wandering  sheep,  whose  souls  no 
man  cared  for ;  binding  up  their  wounds  and  guiding 
their  weary  feet  into  the  Heavenly  way. 

No  wonder  the  people  listened  eagerly  as  Jesus  taught 
them.      Day  after  day  passed  by  and  found  them  still 


THE  FEEDING  OF  FOUR  THOUSAND     219 

lingering  around  their  Teacher.  It  seemed  as  if  they 
would  nev^er  tire  of  listening  to  the  glad  news  of  a 
Father  s  love — 

*  As  for  some  dear  familiar  strain 
Untired  we  ask  and  ask  again. 
Ever  in  its  melodious  store 

Finding  a  spell  unheard  before.' 

At  last  Jesus  called  His  disciples  to  Him  and  told 
tliem  how  sorry  He  felt  for  the  people.  They  had  been 
with  Him  three  days  and  their  scanty  stock  of  food  was 
all  gone,  and  He  could  not  bear  to  send  them  away 
fasting,  lest  they  should  faint  by  the  way,  for  many  of 
them  had  come  from  afar.  The  disciples,  however,  were 
unable  to  see  how  this  could  be  helped.  How  was  it 
possible  to  procure  food  in  the  wilderness  for  over  four 
thousand  people  ?  It  seems  strange  that  they  should 
have  forgotten  how  Jesus,  not  long  before,  had  fed  over 
five  thousand  people  wuth  five  barley  loaves  and  two 
small  fishes  ;  but  perhaps  they  did  not  think  it  likely  that 
He  would  work  a  second  miracle  so  soon  after  tlie  first. 
Besides,  the  crowd  was  mostly  composed  of  foreigners, 
despised  Gentile  people ;  was  it  to  be  expected  that 
Jesus  should  work  a  miracle  to  feed  these  ? 

Jesus,  however,  asked  them  as  before,  '  How  many 
loaves  have  ye  ? '  And  taking  the  seven  loaves  and  few 
small  fishes  that  were  brought  Him,  He  blessed  them 
and  broke  them  into  pieces.  Then  once  more  we  see  the 
crowd  seated  in  companies  upon  the  ground  and  the 
disciples  going  up  and  down  the  long  ranks  distributing 
the  food  that,  by  Jesus'  power,  is  found  sufficient  for  all 
their  needs. 

Then,  after  all  had  eaten,  again  the  fragments  are 
gathered  up — this  time  in  a  great  rope  basket,  which 
they  fill  seven  times  over  with  the  broken  pieces. 


220  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

And  the  four  thousand  streamed  away  across  the 
plain ;  and  in  many  a  village  and  hamlet  and  town  that 
night  would  the  story  of  Jesus'  love  and  compassion  be 
repeated ;  little  children  would  go  to  sleep  with  His 
Name  upon  their  lips ;  and  many  a  heathen  man  and 
woman,  pondering  over  the  message  He  had  brought 
them,  would  turn  away  from  their  idols  and  begin  hence- 
forth to  feel  after  the  true  God,  if  haply  they  might  find 
Him. 

After  feeding  the  hungry  multitude,  Jesus  went  down 
to  the  sea,  and,  entering  the  little  fishing-boat,  steered 
for  the  opposite  shore,  where  the  little  white  town  of 
Magdala  lay  embosomed  among  its  trees.  There  He 
was  met  by  a  band  of  Pharisees  and  Sadducees  and 
fashionable  followers  of  Herod,  who  asked  Him  to  give 
them  a  sign  from  Heaven  to  prove  His  claim  to  be  the 
Christ.  But  Jesus  would  give  no  such  sign.  He  knew 
the  most  wonderful  miracle  in  the  world  would  never 
convince  men  who  did  not  wish  to  be  convinced.  Once 
more  entering  the  boat  with  His  disciples  He  returned 
to  the  eastern  side  of  the  lake.  He  never  came  back 
to  preach  or  to  teach  in  the  fair  land  of  Gennesaret  again. 


XIV 

ST.  Peter's  brave  confession  at  c^sarea  philippi — 

HOW    THE    KING    APPEARED     IN     HIS     GLORY    ON    THE 
MOUNTAIN — THE    HEALING    OF    THE    LUNATIC    BOY 

After  leaving  the  coasts  of  Magdala,  Jesus  landed  at 
the  northern  corner  of  the  lake,  near  Bethsaida  Julias. 
Here  He  worked  another  miracle.  They  brought  a  blind 
man  to  Him  and  besought  Him  to  touch  him.  Jesus, 
the  Light  of  the  World,  had  a  heart  of  pity  for  all  poor 
sufferers  who  dwelt  in  darkness,  shut  out  of  the  light  of 
God's  day,  and  He  looked  with  compassion  on  the  man 
before  Him.  Leading  him  aside,  He  touched  and 
anointed  the  vacant,  sightless  eyes ;  and  slowly  the 
darkness  and  the  mist  cleared  away,  and  the  blind  man 
saw  clearly. 

Leaving  Bethsaida,  Jesus  and  His  disciples  now  began 
to  journey  northwards,  in  the  direction  of  the  city  of 
Csesarea  Philippi.  The  road  by  which  they  travelled 
passed  through  some  of  the  most  lovely  scenery  of  the 
Holy  Land.  The  valleys  everywhere  were  laid  out  with 
rich  cornfields  and  vineyards ;  the  streams  ran  among  the 
hills,  watering  enormous  forests  of  oak  and  fig  and  mul- 
berry, while  great  mountains  rose  on  every  side,  their 
spurs  spread  with  the  silver  mantle  of  the  olive,  and  stained 
with  great  crimson  splashes  of  oleander  bloom.  As  the 
road  wound  upwards,  gradually  the  lofty  mountain-top 


222  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

of  giant  Hermon  began  to  rise  to  view,  '  like  the  snow- 
white  head  of  an  old  man  ' ;  and  presently  the  bright  little 
pleasure  city  of  Caesarea  Philippi  itself  could  be  seen, 
planted  at  the  mountain's  foot,  with  its  trim  gardens,  its 
baths  and  theatre,  and  its  splendid  white  marble  temple 
gleaming  among  the  trees. 

How  fair  and  beautiful  it  all  was.  And  yet  the  hearts 
of  the  disciples  were  heavy  within  them  as  they  followed 
Jesus.  The  hour  of  their  Master's  triumph  seemed 
strangely  long  in  coming.  They  were  troubled  by  the 
signs  of  the  times ;  the  fickleness  of  the  people,  the 
growing  hatred  of  the  Jews.  For  what  was  Jesus 
waiting?  Why  did  He  not  stretch  forth  His  hand 
and  take  His  crown  ?  Even  the  thoughts  of  Jesus  were 
sad  and  solemn  ones.  It  was  His  last  year  on  earth ;  a 
few  short  months  and  it  would  all  be  over — all  the  earthly 
struggles  and  disappointments,  all  the  suffering  and  the 
toil ;  the  Way  of  Sorrows  would  have  led  Him  to  the 
Cross. 

Leaving  His  disciples  for  awhile  He  went  apart  and 
prayed. 

As  they  descended  into  the  plain,  Jesus  put  a  question 
to  His  disciples,  *  Whom  do  men  say  that  I,  the  Son  of 
Man,  am  ? '  It  was  a  question  they  found  it  easy  to 
answer.  They  were  constantly  hearing  friends  and 
enemies  alike  eagerly  discussing  who  Jesus  was.  But 
what  a  variety  of  answers  there  were !  There  were  those 
who,  like  guilty  Herod,  thought  that  Jesus  was  really 
St.  .lohn  the  Baptist  risen  again  from  the  dead;  others 
that  He  was  the  great  prophet  Elijah,  who  the  Jews 
believed  would  one  day  appear  again  on  earth,  rising  like  a 
star  from  the  crystal  depths  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee ;  others 
that  He  was  the  saintly  .Jeremiah  or  one  of  the  lesser 
prophets. 


ST.  PETERS  BRAVE  CONFESSION       22.J 

When  the  disciples  had  finished  telling  Jesus  all  this, 
He  said  to  them,  '  But  whom  say  ye  that  I  am  ? '  Like 
a  flash  came  St.  Peter's  answer,  *  Thou  art  the  Christ,  the 
Son  of  the  living  God.' 

How  this  brave  confession  must  have  gladdened 
Jesus'  heart.  It  did  not  matter  so  much  what  the  world 
thought  about  Plim  just  then,  but  it  mattered  very  much 
what  His  disciples  thought,  for  it  was  to  be  their  task  to 
teach  the  world  after  He  had  gone,  and  to  bring  it  over 
to  His  side,  and  everything  depended  upon  their  belief  as 
to  who  He  really  was. 

Turning  to  St.  Peter  Jesus  solemnly  blesses  Him. 
He  calls  Him  Peter  the  Rock,  and  tells  him  that  upon 
the  rock  of  his  steadfast,  loving  heart  He  would  build  His 
Church,  and  that  it  should  be  so  strongly  built  that  all 
the  powers  of  evil  should  never  shake  it.  He  tells  him 
that  in  the  new  Kingdom  he  should  be  Bearer  of  the  Keys 
to  unlock  the  doors  of  the  Kingdom  and  all  its  treasures 
to  those  worthy  to  enter  in,  and  to  close  them  against 
the  unworthy.  He  gives  him  the  promise  He  afterwards 
gave  the  other  apostles,  that  ruling  the  Church  wisely 
and  in  accordance  with  God's  will,  the  acts  of  the  King's 
ambassador  on  earth  should  be  confirmed  by  the  King 
Himself  in  Heaven. 

After  this  Jesus  began  to  speak  plainly  to  His  dis- 
ciples about  His  coming  sufferings.  He  told  them  that 
He  was  going  up  to  Jerusalem,  there  to  be  rejected  by 
the  people  and  put  to  death  by  cruel  hands,  and  that  on 
the  third  day  He  would  rise  again. 

Simply  and  tenderly  He  spoke,  and  as  they  listened 
their  hearts  were  filled  with  wonder  and  dismay.  They 
could  not  grasp  the  meaning  of  His  words.  AVhat  had 
suffering  and  death  to  do  with  their  King?  However 
dark   the   future   might   seem,   was    He   not   bound   to 


224  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

triumph  in  the  end  ?  In  spite  of  all  that  Scribe  and 
Pharisee  could  do,  should  they  not  see  Him  one  day  in 
His  kingly  robes  reigning  in  Jerusalem  ?  St.  Peter  was 
especially  disturbed,  and  drawing  Jesus  aside  he  began 
to  argue  with  Him,  and  to  find  fault  with  what  He  had 
said.  No  !  such  a  thing  should  never  be  ;  Jesus  must  be 
mistaken ;  God  would  never  permit  it. 

Then  Jesus  turned,  and,  in  the  presence  of  all  the 
apostles,  sternly  rebuked  St.  Peter,  whose  brave  con- 
fession He  had  so  lately  praised. 

He  called  him  Satan,  or  adversary,  meaning  that  he 
was  acting  the  devil's  part,  who  in  the  wilderness,  you 
remember,  had  tried  to  persuade  Jesus  that  the  Crown 
could  be  won  without  the  Cross.  He  told  him  that  he — 
Peter  the  Man  of  Rock — was  a  stone  of  stumbling  in  His 
path,  for  his  thoughts  and  aims  were  not  of  Heaven  but 
of  earth. 

God's  ways  are  often  dark  and  hard  to  tread ;  to  serve 
Him  we  must  be  prepared  to  suffer  loss  and  pain.  That 
was  the  lesson  the  disciples  had  to  learn  that  day. 

Calling  the  people  together,  Jesus  began  to  describe 
to  them  and  to  His  disciples  the  service  to  which  His 
followers  were  called.  He  told  them  that  whoever  would 
come  after  Him  must  first  learn  to  deny  himself  and  take 
up  his  cross  daily  and  follow  Him.  The  cross— ah,  that 
meant  something  very  hard  and  difficult !  The  cross  was 
the  heavy  burden  beneath  whose  weight  the  poor  criminal 
bent  as  he  dragged  his  weary  steps  to  the  place  of  execu- 
tion. It  stood  for  sadness,  suffering,  pain.  In  this  sense 
there  was  no  life  without  its  cross;  only  so  much  de- 
pended on  the  way  the  cross  was  carried.  Jesus'  disciples 
must  not  drag  their  cross  as  the  criminal  dragged  his. 
They  must  be  ready  to  endure  suffering  for  His  sake 
patiently;  they  must  for  His  sake  learn   cheerfully  to 


THE  KING  IN  HIS  GLORY  225 

sacrifice  what  they  held  most  dear ;  they  must  be  content 
to  give  up  tlieir  own  way  for  God's  way,  witliout  murmur- 
ing and  discontent.  This,  together  with  the  daily  patient 
following  in  His  footsteps,  was  what  His  service  meant. 
Yet  those  who  thus  served  the  King  should  not  be  dis- 
appointed with  their  wages.  They  might  lose  a  life  of 
worldly  ease  and  self-pleasing,  but  in  its  stead  they  would 
gain  a  better,  grander  life,  even  the  Heavenly  life  eternal. 

For  six  days  Jesus  and  His  disciples  wandered  amid 
the  wheatfields  and  the  vineyards  that  wreathed  the 
lower  slopes  of  the  great  mountain,  whose  top  was  set  so 
high  among  the  clouds. 

Afterwards  '  taking  with  Him  Peter,  James,  and 
John,'  He  began  to  ascend  the  mountain -side.  We 
have  already  seen  how  .Tesus  loved  the  great  solitary 
mountains.  They  seemed  to  lift  Him  away  from  the 
cares  and  troubles  of  earth  and  bring  Him  close  to  the 
very  gates  of  Heaven.  Kneeling  on  the  mountain-top 
He  breathed  a  purer  air ;  the  breezes  that  played  around 
Him  came  laden  with  the  sound  of  the  bells  of  His  own 
dear  City,  and  He  seemed  to  hear  the  faint  songs  of  the 
angels  and  the  throbbing  of  their  harps  of  gold. 

It  was  growing  towards  evening,  and  as  Jesus  and 
His  three  disciples  climbed  higher  and  higher,  the  shadows 
began  to  darken  about  their  path,  and  presently  the  sky 
was  all  ablaze  with  stars,  and  the  far-off  mountain-top, 
with  its  stretches  of  snow  veining  its  rocky  boulders, 
began  to  glitter  beneath  the  moonlight  like  some  great 
mass  of  ebony  seamed  with  silver. 

Having  gained  one  of  the  lower  heights,  Jesus  with- 
drew Himself  a  little  distance  from  His  disciples  and 
knelt  long  in  earnest  prayer  to  God.  As  He  prayed 
a  wonderful  thing  took  place.  Suddenly  He  became 
glorious ;  His  face  shone  with  a  strange  unearthly  light, 

r 


226  THE  CHILD  S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

and  His  garments  became  white  and  glistening  as  the 
moonlit  mountain  snow.  It  was  the  light  of  the  glory 
of  God  streaming  through  the  veil  of  His  human  form  ; 
the  same  bright  light  which  afterwards  shone  before  the 
dazzled  eyes  of  St.  John  at  Patmos,  when  the  Risen  Lord 
appeared  to  him,  and  he  fell  at  His  feet  as  dead. 

Wearied  with  their  long  climb,  the  disciples  had 
wrapped  themselves  in  their  cloaks,  and  were  now  fast 
asleep,  but  the  glory  which  streamed  from  the  face 
and  form  of  Jesus  quickly  awakened  them,  just  as  the 
glory  of  the  angel  had  awakened  the  shepherds  on  the 
Bethlehem  hills.  They  looked  up  and  saw  their  JNIaster, 
but  oh,  how  changed  He  was  !  '  His  head  and  His  hairs 
were  white  like  wool,  as  white  as  snow ;  and  His  eyes 
were  as  a  flame  of  fire,  and  His  feet  like  unto  fine  brass, 
as  if  they  burned  in  a  furnace  .  .  .  and  His  countenance 
as  the  sun  shineth  in  his  strength.' 

As  they  gazed,  wondering  and  afraid,  they  saw  there 
were  two  men  talking  with  Jesus,  and  they  knew,  though 
there  was  none  to  tell  them  this,  that  they  were  Moses 
and  Elijah,  the  great  lawgiver  and  the  mighty  prophet, 
whose  work  and  teaching  Jesus  had  come  to  gather  up 
and  fulfil.  There  they  stood,  those  two  great  saints  of 
the  dim,  far-off  days,  one  on  either  side  and  Jesus  in 
the  midst.  '  It  was  as  though  Moses  had  brought  the 
tables  of  the  ten  commandments  from  distant  and  awful 
Sinai  and  had  laid  them  at  Jesus'  feet ;  while  Elijah  had 
laid  there  also  the  harp  of  prophecy  which  had  sounded 
so  sweetly  and  grandly  in  his  hands  in  the  far-off 
times.' 

Long  and  earnestly  did  these  holy  men  talk  with 
Jesus,  and  their  talk  was  all  about  His  sufferings  and 
death.  We  should  have  thought,  perhaps,  that  at  a  time 
like  this,  theirs  would  have  been  some  brighter  theme ; 


THE   TRANSFIGURATION 


THE  KING  IN  HIS  GLORY  227 

that  they  would  have  spoken  of  His  glorious  Kesurrection 
and  Ascension,  the  triumph  and  the  victory  instead  of 
the  suffering  and  the  death.  Ah,  but  it  was  the  suffering 
and  the  death  that  should  pave  the  way  for  the  triumph. 
There  could  be  no  victory  without  the  bitter  fight. 
Jesus  was  not  to  go  up  to  joy  without  first  suffering 
pain ;  He  could  not  enter  into  His  glory  before  He  was 
crucified. 

Meanwhile  the  apostles  were  gazing  at  the  vision  like 
men  in  a  dream,  half-dazed  with  awe  and  wonder.  At 
last  St.  Peter,  always  the  first  to  speak,  found  a  voice. 
'  JNlaster,'  he  cried,  '  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here :  and  let 
us  make  three  tabernacles ;  one  for  Thee,  and  one  for 
Moses,  and  one  for  Elias.'  Oh,  how  beautiful  upon  the 
mountains  were  the  feet  of  Jesus  and  His  saints  !  How 
good  it  was  to  see  his  JNlaster  enthroned  in  glory,  like 
the  King  He  was,  like  the  King  His  people  should  yet 
acknowledge  Him  to  be !  If  the  vision  could  but  last 
for  ever ;  if  the  three  would  but  remain  till  his  eager 
hands  should  weave  three  leafy  booths  for  tliem  to  dwell 
in,  such  as  the  Passover  pilgrims  used,  and  his  voice 
summon  all  Galilee  and  Jerusalem  to  the  sight ! 

Poor  Peter  !  It  was  an  idle  dream.  Moses  and  Elias 
belonged  to  another  world  than  this  ;  it  was  not  possible 
for  them  to  stay  upon  an  earthly  mountain.  Nor  could 
Jesus  stay  there ;  there  was  work  waiting  for  Him  to  do 
below;  there  was  the  journey  to  Jerusalem  still  to  take; 
there  was  that  other  mountain-side  to  climb,  '  the  place 
which  is  called  Calvary.'  It  was  there,  not  here.  His 
throne  was  set. 

Even  as  St.  Peter  spoke,  another  marvel  followed  hard 
upon  the  first.  Suddenly  a  cloud  of  dazzling  light  ap- 
peared in  the  heavens  and  overshadowed  them,  and  from 
the  cloud   came  a  Voice,  the   Voice   that   had   already 


228  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

witnessed  to  Jesus  at  His  baptism ;  '  This  is  My  beloved 
Son  ;  hear  Him.'     It  was  the  Voice  of  God. 

Trembhng  and  sore  afraid,  the  disciples  fell  upon  their 
faces  to  the  ground,  not  daring  to  look  up  or  move. 
Presently  Jesus  came  and  touched  them,  and  they  lifted 
up  their  heads,  to  find  themselves  upon  the  mountain-side 
alone  with  Him;  the  cloud  vanished,  the  glory  gone; 
only  the  quiet  stars  looking  down  upon  them  from  the 
sky  with  their  steadfast  eyes. 

Dear  child,  we  can  well  imagine  how  this  vision  of 
Jesus  in  glory  must  have  heartened  the  disciples  after  what 
had  passed ;  and  how  the  memory  of  it  would  comfort 
and  cheer  them  in  the  sad  time  to  come.  Jesus  had  led 
them  up  the  mountain-side  for  this.  He  knew  the  sorrow 
and  the  pain  that  was  in  store  for  them ;  how  hard  they 
would  find  it  to  hold  fast  to  their  belief  in  Him,  in  the 
face  of  the  suffering  and  humiliation  that  was  coming  on. 
And  so  He  gave  them  the  vision  to  strengthen  their 
faith,  and  to  help  them  to  keep  up  a  brave  heart,  even 
when  things  seemed  at  their  very  worst. 

Next  day,  as  the  sun  rose,  Jesus  and  the  three  apostles 
began  to  descend  the  mountain,  and  as  they  went  He 
talked  to  them  of  the  vision  of  the  night  before,  and  bade 
them  speak  of  it  to  no  one  until  such  time  as  He  should 
rise  again.  What  did  Jesus  mean  by  '  rising  again,'  they 
wondered,  but  they  were  afraid  to  ask  Him  what  He  meant. 
One  question,  however,  they  did  put  to  Him.  They  had 
seen  Elijah  on  the  mountain,  but  it  had  only  been  for  a 
moment,  the  next  the  cloud  of  glory  had  wrapped  him 
in  its  folds,  and  he  had  disappeared  from  mortal  sight. 
How  then  was  it  that  they  had  been  taught  to  believe 
that  before  the  coming  of  Christ  Elijah  should  again 
appear  on  earth,  and  restore  to  Israel  its  ancient  glories  ? 

And  Jesus  answered  that  Elijah  had  already  come; 


THE  LUNATIC  BOY  220 

he  had  done  his  work  and  borne  his  witness,  and  his 
reward  had  been  suffering  and  death  ;  just  as  suffering 
and  death  should  be  the  reward  of  his  Master  after  him. 
Then  the  disciples  understood  that  Jesus  was  speaking  of 
St.  John  the  Baptist. 

On  reaching  the  mountain-foot,  Jesus  found  the  people 
gathered  together  awaiting  His  coming.  The  little  knot 
of  disciples  He  had  left  behind  were  in  great  trouble.  A 
poor  distressed  father  had  brought  his  son  to  them,  in  the 
hope  that  they  might  be  able  to  cast  out  an  evil  spirit 
that  tormented  him,  and  they  had  tried  to  do  so,  and  had 
tried  in  vain. 

The  disciples  had  often  cast  out  devils  in  the  name 
and  by  the  power  of  Jesus,  but  in  this  case  they  seemed 
quite  unable  to  do  anything ;  their  power  was  gone ;  and 
it  had  gone  because  their  faith  had  gone. 

Jesus  had  disappeared  up  the  mountain-side,  and  no 
doubt  they  missed  Him  and  felt  lost  without  Him.  Then 
their  hearts  were  heavy  and  cast  down  by  wliat  He  had 
told  them  about  His  death.  Besides,  the  case  was  of  a  very 
severe  and  difficult  kind,  and  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees 
with  their  sneering,  mocking  faces  had  come  crowding 
round,  ready  to  laugh  and  jeer  at  them  if  they  failed  in 
their  attempt ;  and  they  began  to  be  afraid  lest  they 
should  fail — and  so  ended  in  failing. 

When  Jesus  drew  near,  they  were  standing  with 
shamed  and  downcast  faces,  with  a  ring  of  their  enemies 
round  them,  arguing  and  finding  fault  with  them,  and 
taking  no  pains  to  hide  their  joy  and  satisfaction  at  what 
had  taken  place. 

Was  there  some  glint  of  Heavenly  glory  still  lingering 
about  the  face  of  Jesus,  some  touch  of  light  like  that 
which  shone  upon  tlic  face  of  Moses  as  lie  came  down 
from  the  mount  where  God  had  met  him  ?     Perliaps  so. 


230  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

for  the  crowd,  we  are  told,  were  filled  with  a  great  awe  and 
wonder  when  they  saw  Him,  and  began  to  run  to  meet 
Him,  and  do  Him  reverence.  The  next  moment  the  poor 
heart-broken  father  was  pouring  out  his  piteous  tale  into 
Jesus'  ear.  The  boy,  he  told  Him,  was  possessed  of  a 
dumb  spirit ;  and  he  went  on  to  describe  how,  when  the 
evil  spirit  seized  him,  he  was  thrown  to  the  ground  in 
dreadful  convulsions,  grinding  his  teeth  and  foaming  at 
the  mouth.  '  And  I  brought  Him  to  Thy  disciples,'  he 
added  sadly,  '  and  they  could  not  cure  him.' 

'  Bring  him  unto  Me,'  comes  the  command,  and  they 
bring  the  boy  to  Jesus.  And  when  the  evil  spirit  saw  the 
stern,  set  face  of  the  King,  and  knew  into  whose  presence 
it  had  come,  it  cowered  and  began  to  tear  the  little  lad, 
so  that  he  fell  down  writhing  at  Jesus'  feet.  Then  Jesus 
asked  the  unhappy  father  how  long  his  son  had  been  thus 
devil-possessed  ;  and  he  answered,  from  the  time  he  had 
been  a  little  innocent  child ;  and  always  the  cruel  malig- 
nant spirit  was  on  the  watch  to  destroy  him  by  casting 
him  into  the  fire  and  water. 

'  But  if  Thou  canst  do  anything,'  he  urged  in  broken 
tones,  '  have  compassion  upon  us  and  help  us.' 

And  Jesus  answered,  '  If  thou  canst  believe ;  all 
things  are  possible  to  him  that  believeth.'  As  He  spoke, 
new  hope  sprang  up  in  the  fatlier's  heart.  He  looked 
into  the  starry  eyes  of  Jesus,  and  in  a  moment  all  his 
doubts  and  fears  seemed  to  melt  away.  '  Lord,  I  believe,' 
he  cried,  with  the  tears  running  down  his  cheeks,  '  help 
Thou  mine  unbelief.'  And  Jesus,  because  he  believed, 
gave  him  his  heart's  desire.  Swiftly  comes  the  word  of 
power,  *  Thou  dumb  and  deaf  spirit,  I  charge  thee,  come 
out  of  him,  and  enter  no  more  into  him,'  and  the  devil 
with  a  shriek  and  a  desperate  struggle  comes  out  of  the 
lad,  and  he  sways  and  falls  fainting  to  the  ground.     '  He 


THE  POWEK  OF  FAITH  231 

is  dead,'  whisper  the  people  to  one  another  as  they  crowd 
around  ;  but  lie  was  not  dead.  Jesus  had  set  him  free, 
to  live  henceforth  a  new  and  happier  life.  Bending 
down,  He  took  the  httle  lad's  hand  in  His  own  strong, 
tender  hand,  and  raising  him  up  gave  him  back  to  his 
father. 

Silently  and  sadly  the  disciples  followed  Jesus  from 
the  scene  of  their  defeat.  AVhen  they  were  alone  they 
asked  Him  the  reason  of  their  want  of  success,  and  He  told 
them  it  was  because  of  their  want  of  faith,  because  they 
had  not  the  courage  to  trust  God.  And  then  He  spoke 
to  them  of  the  wonderful  power  of  faith.  He  told  them 
that  if  they  had  faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard  seed — the 
very  smallest  atom  of  true  faith — they  could  with  a  word 
tear  great  snowy  Hermon  from  its  rocky  bed  and  fling  it 
afar  into  the  sea,  and  nothing  should  be  impossible  to 
them. 

He  meant  by  this  that  if  His  disciples  would  only 
learn  the  lesson  of  simple  faith  in  God  nothing  could  con- 
quer them  ;  the  obstacles  in  their  way  of  serving  God,  the 
great  mountains  of  difficulty  that  blocked  their  way  to 
Heaven  would  all  be  cast  down  and  disappear. 

And  so,  dear  child,  He  speaks  to  us.  God  loves  to  be 
trusted.  Trust  Him,  and  you  will  find  no  task  He  sets 
before  you  too  hard  for  you  to  do.  They  tell  this  story  of 
one  of  His  greatest  saints  of  bygone  times,  St.  Teresa. 
She  went  to  Paris  to  prepare  to  found  a  school  for  poor,  de- 
serted, orphan  children.  But  there  was  a  great  mountain 
in  her  way.  When  she  counted  her  money  she  found  she 
had  only  two  little  copper  coins,  not  worth  a  penny.  She 
said,  '  Teresa  and  two  sous  are  nothing,  but  Teresa  and 
two  sous,  and  God  are  everything.'  And  she  just  put 
her  hand  in  God's  hand,  and  went  bravely  forward  to  the 
work,  and  lo  !  the  mountain  disappeared  ;  God  smoothed 


232  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

her  difficulties  away,  and  in  the  end  she  was  not  dis- 
appointed of  her  hope. 

That  is  the  only  way  to  level  mountains.  .  .  .  '  Not 
by  might,  nor  by  power,  but  by  My  Spirit,  saith  the 
Lord  of  Hosts.' 


XV 


THE    SERMON    PREACHED    BY   A    LITTLE    CHILD — A    LESSON 

ABOUT       FORGIVENESS  JESUS      AT      THE      FEAST      OF 

TABERNACLES THE     MAN     WHO     WAS      BORN     BLIND 

— THE    ALLEGORY   OF    THE    GOOD    SHEPHERD 

The  visit  to  Cassarea  Philippi  at  an  end,  Jesus  once 
more  turned  His  face  towards  Galilee  and  Capernaum. 
After  the  warnings  He  had  given  His  disciples  not  to 
expect  earthly  glory  or  earthly  rewards  in  His  service,  it 
seems  strange  to  find  them  disputing  among  themselves 
by  the  way  as  to  who  should  be  the  greatest  in  the  king- 
dom which  they  thought  He  was  about  to  set  up  in 
Jerusalem.  Yet  so  it  was.  Perhaps  the  trouble  arose  be- 
cause of  the  special  mark  of  favour  which  Jesus  had  shown 
the  three  disciples  whom  He  had  taken  up  the  JNIount  of 
Transfiguration ;  perhaps  it  was  because  of  the  special 
honour  He  had  bestowed  on  St.  Peter,  by  making  him 
the  Bearer  of  the  Keys.  In  any  case,  each  of  the  disciples 
seemed  to  think  that  the  chief  place  belonged  by  right  to 
himself;  and  soon  angry  feelings  began  to  be  aroused, 
and  these  in  their  turn  found  vent  in  angry  words. 

Jesus  seemed  to  take  no  notice  of  the  dispute  at  the 
time,  but  when  they  had  reached  Capernaum,  and  had 
entered  St.  Peter's  house,  He  called  His  disciples  to  Him 
and  asked  them  the  reason  why  they  had  thus  fallen  out 
by  the  way.  The  disciples  hung  their  heads  ;  Jesus  was 
always  teaching  them  tliat  the  highest  glory  lay  in  forget- 


234  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

fulness  of  self,  and  they  knew  enough  about  Him  to  feel 
sure  that  He  would  not  be  pleased  to  hear  that  their 
quarrel  had  been  about  places  and  rewards. 

There  was  a  little  boy  standing  near  Jesus  at  the  time. 
Perhaps  he  had  been  playing  in  the  street,  and  hearing 
that  Jesus  had  come  back  to  Capernaum,  had  run  to  meet 
Him,  and  had  followed  Him  home.  The  children  would 
always  run  to  Jesus  when  they  saw  Him  coming.  As 
He  walked  along  the  streets,  they  would  come  crowding 
round  Him  and  follow  Him,  holding  on  to  His  hand, 
and  .nestling  beneath  His  woollen  cloak.  No  one  told 
them  such  beautiful  stories  as  Jesus  did,  no  one  was  half 
so  kind  and  tender  and  loving  as  He.  He  was  quite  the 
best  and  dearest  Friend  they  had.  Taking  the  little  fel- 
low up  in  His  arms,  Jesus  told  His  disciples  that  if  they 
would  enter  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  they  must  turn  and 
become  even  as  that  little  child,  that  is  to  say,  as  loving 
and  trustful,  as  humble-minded  and  obedient.  The  more 
childlike  in  heart  they  became,  He  said,  the  higher  their 
place  in  His  Kingdom  would  be.  And  then  with  a 
tender  glance  at  the  little  face  turned  up  so  trustfully  and 
lovingly  to  His  own,  He  went  on  to  say  some  beautiful 
things  about  little  children. 

He  told  His  disciples  that  He  counted  all  kindness 
and  compassion  shown  to  a  little  child  as  shown  to  Him- 
self. He  reminded  them  how  dear  a  child's  innocence  is 
in  God's  eyes,  and  how  fearfully  He  would  punish  any  one 
who  led  a  little  child  into  temptation,  and  taught  it  to 
sin.  He  spoke  of  the  children's  angels,  those  bright 
spirits  who,  by  day  and  night,  spread  their  white  wings 
over  God's  little  ones,  to  guard  and  protect  them.  In 
Heaven,  He  said,  the  children's  angels  stand  nearest  to 
God's  throne,  by  which  He  seems  to  teach  that  the 
children  are  nearest  to  His  Father's  heart. 


A  LESSON  ABOUT  FORGIVENESS       235 

Sometime  after  this,  Jesus  was  speaking  to  the  disciples 
about  the  right  way  of  treating  a  wrongdoer.  Should 
they  be  treated  badly  by  any  one,  they  were  not  to  deal 
harshly  with  him  in  return ;  they  were  to  treat  him  with 
all  gentleness  and  consideration.  St.  I'eter,  who  had 
been  listening  attentively,  here  broke  in  with  a  question. 
Jesus  had  taught  that  a  wrongdoer  must  be  forgiven. 
Yes,  but  supposing  he  behaved  badly  again,  and  kept  on 
behaving  badly,  what  then?  would  it  be  enough  to  forgive 
him  seven  times  ? 

St.  Peter  thought  that  he  was  making  a  very  gener- 
ous allowance,  for  the  Jewish  Rabbis  taught  that  no 
man  could  be  expected  to  forgive  more  than  three  times. 
Judge  of  his  astonishment  when  Jesus  answered,  '  Not 
until  seven  times,  but  until  seventy  times  seven' — that  is 
to  say,  you  must  always  keep  on  forgiving,  you  must 
never  harden  your  heart  against  one  who  has  done  you 
wrong.  To  drive  this  lesson  home  to  St.  Peter's  heart, 
Jesus  told  him  the  story  of  the  unmerciful  servant. 

There  was  a  king,  He  said,  who  began  to  add  up  the 
different  sums  his  servants  owed  him.  Among  the 
debtors  brought  before  him  was  one  whose  debt  was  so 
enormous  that  it  ran  into  millions  of  pounds.  The  debtor 
was  quite  unable  to  pay  this  great  sum,  and  so  the  king, 
after  the  cruel  fashion  of  those  days,  ordered  him  to  be 
sold  as  a  slave,  and  his  wife  and  children  and  all  that  he 
had,  that  some  fragment  of  payment  at  any  rate  might  be 
made. 

Then  the  wretched  serv^ant  fell  down  at  the  king's 
feet  and  implored  his  mercy ;  only  give  him  time  and  he 
would  pay  the  debt  in  full.  So  pitifully  did  he  plead 
that  the  king's  heart  was  touched ;  he  forgave  him  the 
entire  debt  and  let  him  go  free.  But  the  kindness  and 
mercy  that  had  been  shown  by  the  king  did  not  in  the 


236  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

least  soften  the  servant's  own  hard  and  unforgiving  spirit. 
Going  from  the  king's  presence  and  finding  one  of  his 
fellow-servants,  who  owed  him  a  paltry  debt  of  about 
three  pounds,  he  seized  him  by  the  throat,  and,  taking  no 
notice  of  his  prayers  and  entreaties,  thrust  him  into 
prison  till  he  should  pay  the  debt. 

Angry  and  indignant  at  this  piece  of  cruelty,  the 
fellow- servants  came  and  reported  the  matter  to  the 
king.  Then  the  king  summons  the  unmerciful  servant 
before  him  once  more.  '  O  thou  wicked  servant ! '  he 
sternly  says,  '  I  forgave  thee  all  that  debt  because  thou 
desiredst  me ;  shouldst  not  thou  also  have  had  compas- 
sion on  thy  fellow-servant,  even  as  I  had  pity  on  thee  ? ' 
And  in  his  anger  the  king  revokes  his  forgiveness,  and 
the  unmerciful  servant  finds  himself  saddled  once  more 
with  his  enormous  debt,  and  is  sent  to  prison  until  he 
should  pay  it  to  the  uttermost  farthing. 

Having  ended  the  parable,  Jesus  gave  His  disciples 
the  key  to  its  meaning.  '  So  likewise  shall  my  Heavenly 
Father  do  also  unto  you,  if  ye  from  your  hearts  forgive 
not  every  one  his  brother  their  trespasses.' 

You  see  the  meaning  of  the  story  ?  The  King  is 
God ;  we  are  His  servants ;  the  debt  w^e  owe  Him  is  the 
great  debt  of  perfect  love  and  obedience,  'the  happy 
service  of  a  stainless  life.'  But  that  is  a  debt  we  can  never 
pay ;  we  are  always  falling  into  sin  and  coming  short  of 
what  God  requires  of  us,  and  so  the  account  against  us 
mounts  higher  and  higher,  and  grows  heavier  and  heavier. 
And  there  is  nothing  to  be  done  ;  we  cannot  make  amends 
for  our  disobedience ;  we  cannot  undo  the  past.  Yet  God 
is  loving  and  merciful,  and  if  we  are  really  sorry  for  our 
sins  and  long  to  be  forgiven.  He  will,  if  we  ask  Him,  blot 
out  the  record  written  against  us,  and  lift  awaj^  the  heavy 
burden  of  our  debt.     Only,  to  be  forgiven,  we  must  learn 


THE  FEAST  OF  TABERNACLES         237 

to  fbr<Tive ;  God  will  not  pardon  our  wrongdoing  unless 
we  are  first  of  all  ready  to  pardon  those  who  have  done 
us  wrong.  That  is  the  lesson  Jesus  would  have  us  learn 
from  this  parable.  Let  me  tell  you  of  a  little  boy  who 
once  learned  it  by  His  help.  He  was  the  son  of  a  king. 
His  father  and  mother  had  both  suffered  death  at  the 
time  of  the  French  Revolution,  when  lawless  men  seized 
the  reins  of  government,  and  the  guillotine  ran  red  with 
the  blood  of  the  noblest  in  the  land.  They  took  him, 
when  he  was  only  seven  years  old,  and  shut  him  up  in 
a  dark,  gloomy  prison.  There,  like  some  wild  bird  from 
the  woods  thrust  into  a  cage,  he  slowly  pined  away ;  the 
golden  hair  his  mother  loved  to  comb  became  matted 
with  dirt ;  his  round  childish  face  grew  pale  and  wan 
with  suffering  and  ill-health.  His  gaoler,  a  cruel,  wicked 
man  who  treated  him  very  badly,  asked  him  one  day 
what  he  would  do,  supposing  the  French  ever  made  him 
king  like  his  father.  The  child  replied,  '  I  would  forgive 
you.'  He  never  was  crowned  king,  poor  child,  on  earth, 
but  I  like  to  think  that  when  death  ended  his  sufferings, 
as  it  did  soon  afterwards,  Jesus  met  him  and  crowned 
him  with  the  better  crown  He  keeps  for  those  who  love 
Him  and  follow  in  His  steps. 

Here  then  is  a  rule  for  our  own  lives,  '  Be  ye  kind  one 
to  another ;  tender-hearted,  forgiving  one  another ;  even 
as  God  for  Christ's  sake  hath  forgiven  you.' 

It  was  now  the  fall  of  the  year,  and  Jesus  and  His 
disciples  prepared  to  go  up  to  Jerusalem  to  keep  the  joyous 
Feast  of  Tabernacles.  As  they  journeyed  southwards  every- 
thing around  them  pointed  to  the  time  of  the  ingathering 
of  the  autumn  fruits.  The  trees  of  the  forest  had  begun 
to  put  on  their  robes  of  red  and  gold ;  everywhere  the 
labourers  were  busy  at  work,  gathering  the  grape  clusters 
from  the  vines,  or  stripping  the  olive-trees  of  their  shining 


238  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

berries.  As  they  drew  near  the  borders  of  Samaria,  Jesus 
sent  on  a  party  of  the  disciples  to  seek  for  a  lodging  in 
one  of  the  villages.  But  the  people  of  the  village  that 
they  first  entered,  learning  that  they  were  pilgrims  going 
up  to  Jerusalem,  shut  their  doors  against  them,  and  re- 
fused them  shelter,  and  Jesus  was  obliged  to  pass  on, 
hungry  and  weary. 

St.  James  and  St.  John,  '  the  Sons  of  Thunder,'  were 
very  angry  at  the  slight  put  upon  their  Master ;  so  angry 
that  they  even  wanted  to  call  down  fire  from  Heaven  to 
strike  these  unfriendly  villagers  dead.  But  Jesus  told 
them  that  their  thought  was  a  wild  and  wicked  one ;  He 
had  not,  He  said,  come  to  destroy  men's  lives  but  to  save 
them. 

There  was  '  something  starry '  about  Jesus'  face  that 
attracted  all  kinds  of  people  to  His  side.  On  this  par- 
ticular journey  three  men  came  to  Him  at  different 
times  begging  to  be  allowed  to  follow  Him.  Instead  of 
bidding  them  welcome,  however,  Jesus  bade  them  pause 
and  count  the  cost  of  the  step  they  proposed  to  take. 
His  service  was  hard  and  difficult ;  if  they  followed  Him 
they  must  be  prepared  to  give  up  everything  they  held 
most  dear;  and  they  must  never  turn  back.  As  He 
speaks,  we  seem  to  see  their  faces  fall;  presently  one 
after  another  they  turn  sorrowfully  away.  They  were 
not  of  the  stuff  of  which  disciples  of  the  Cross  could  be 
fashioned. 

On  reaching  Jerusalem,  Jesus  found  the  Holy  City 
thronged  with  excited  crowds,  drawn  from  nearly  every 
part  of  the  world,  all  in  holiday  dress,  and  carrying 
branches  of  palm,  woven  round  with  willow  and  myrtle, 
in  their  hands.  Courtyard  and  street  and  city  wall  were 
jewelled  with  thousands  of  little  emerald  booths,  formed 
of  the  leafy  boughs  of  the  palm  and  olive  and  citron-tree. 


THE  FEAST  OF  TABERNACLES         239 

It  was  like  a  scene  from  fairyland.  Everywhere  these 
little  green  tabernacles  were  to  be  seen,  even  the  hills 
round  about  Jerusalem  were  full  of  them ;  for  tlie  Feast 
of  Tabernacles  was  kept  in  remembrance  of  the  time 
when  the  Israelites  dwelt  in  tents  in  the  wilderness,  and 
while  it  was  in  progress  every  one  must  leave  his  house 
and  live  out  of  doors. 

Threading  His  way  through  the  little  green  avenues 
which  stretched  on  every  side  of  Him,  Jesus  at  last  found 
Himself  in  His  Father's  House.  There,  amid  the  marble 
corridors  of  the  Temple,  He  sat  and  taught,  and  as  they 
listened  the  people  wondered,  questioning  among  them- 
selves whether  He  were  really  the  Christ  or  not. 

Among  the  many  interesting  ceremonies  connected 
with  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles  was  one  which  was  in- 
tended to  call  to  mind  the  wonderful  miracle  of  olden 
days,  when,  to  give  drink  to  His  thirsty  people,  God 
'  smote  the  stony  rock  indeed,  that  the  water  gushed 
out.'  Every  morning  one  of  the  Temple  priests  headed 
a  great  procession  down  to  a  pool  at  the  foot  of  the 
Temple  rock,  called  the  Pool  of  Siloam.  In  his  hand  he 
carried  a  golden  pitcher  which  he  filled  with  clear,  bright 
water.  Then,  returning  to  the  Temple,  he  poured  the 
water  out  upon  the  great  brazen  altar.  As  he  did  this 
the  choir  of  white-robed  I^evites  burst  forth  into  the 
joyous  strains  of  a  cluster  of  David's  psalms,  known  as 
the  great  Hallel.  When  they  came  to  the  words,  '  Oh 
give  thanks  unto  the  Lord,  for  He  is  good  :  for  His 
mercy  endureth  for  ever,'  the  thunder  of  a  thousand 
voices  joined  in  the  refrain,  and  every  pilgrim  waved 
the  palm  brancli  in  his  hand,  until  the  crowded  court 
resembled  some  great  leafy  wood  swept  by  the  wind. 

It  was  the  last  and  great  day  of  the  Feast,  and  on  this 
day  the  water  was  not  poured  out.     The  I^evites  had 


240  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

chanted  their  psalms,  the  priests  had  marched  seven  times 
round  the  altar,  and  the  people,  having  beaten  their  palm 
branches  to  pieces,  were  preparing  to  depart,  when 
suddenly  a  voice  was  heard  ringing  clear  and  distinct 
above  every  other  sound.  '  If  any  man  thirst  let  him 
come  unto  Me  and  drink.  He  that  believeth  on  Me,  as 
the  Scripture  hath  said,  out  of  his  belly  (or  heart)  shall  flow 
rivers  of  living  water.'  It  was  the  voice  of  Jesus.  As  it 
rang  out  a  hush  fell  upon  the  crowd.  They  turned  to 
look,  and  there  He  stood,  Jesus  the  Prophet  of  Nazareth, 
with  outstretched  hands.  His  face  aglow  with  tenderness 
and  love.  It  was  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  St.  John 
tells  us,  that  He  was  promising — the  Fountain  of  living 
water,  God  Himself;  to  be  in  their  hearts  a  fountain  of 
joy  and  happiness  that  should  never  fail. 

As  they  listened,  the  hearts  of  many  of  the  people 
were  strangely  moved.  Surely  none  but  the  Christ  Him- 
self could  dare  to  speak  such  words  as  these  ?  But  though 
some  believed  on  Him,  others  doubted. 

Among  the  crowd  were  a  number  of  servants  of  the 
Pharisees.  They  had  been  sent  to  seize  Jesus  and  make 
Him  a  prisoner,  but  the  majesty  of  His  presence  and  the 
wonder  of  His  words  struck  them  with  amazement. 
They  Avent  back  again  empty-handed  to  those  who  had 
sent  them.  '  Why  have  ye  not  brought  Him  ? '  asked  the 
Pharisees  angrily ;  and  they  answered,  '  Never  man  spake 
like  this  man.' 

Another  ceremony  at  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles  was 
the  lighting  of  the  great  golden  candlesticks  that  stood  in 
the  Court  of  the  Women.  These  were  four  in  number, 
tall  gilded  pedestals  seventy  feet  high,  each  crowned 
with  four  great  lamps.  Every  evening  during  the  Feast 
there  was  a  great  illumination  of  these  lamps,  and  hymns 
were  sung,  and  dancing  by  torch-light  took  place,  until 


THE  MAN  WHO  WAS  BORN  BLIND     241 

the  time  came  for  the  Temple  gates  to  be  shut.  Just  as 
the  pouring  out  of  the  water  was  meant  to  remind  the 
people  of  the  water  that  flowed  from  the  rock  in  the 
wilderness,  so  the  lighting  of  the  golden  candlesticks 
recalled  the  shining  pillar  of  fire  that  moved  before  the 
Israelites  on  their  way  to  the  Promised  Land.  Perhaps 
it  was  with  reference  to  this  ceremony  and  its  teaching 
that  we  find  Jesus,  the  next  day,  speaking  of  Himself 
under  one  of  His  most  beautiful  names,  '  I  am  the  Light 
of  the  world ;  he  that  foUoweth  Me  shall  not  walk  in 
darkness,  but  shall  have  the  light  of  life.' 

Meanwhile  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  were  growing 
more  and  more  bitter  against  Jesus.  Day  after  day  they 
gathered  round  Him,  disputing  with  Him  and  seeking  to 
entrap  Him  in  His  words.  At  last,  moved  to  fury  by  the 
claim  He  made  to  be  One  with  His  Father,  they  took  up 
stones  to  stone  Him  ;  but  the  time  had  not  yet  come  for 
Him  to  die,  and  so  He  passed  quietly  through  the  midst 
of  His  enemies,  just  as  He  had  done  once  before  at 
Capernaum,  and  went  His  way  unhurt. 

One  Sabbath  day  while  He  was  at  Jerusalem,  Jesus, 
as  He  passed  through  one  of  the  Temple  porches,  saw  a 
blind  man  who  had  come  up  to  the  Temple  to  beg.  His 
was  a  specially  sad  case,  for  the  man  had  been  born  bhnd, 
and  so  had  spent  all  his  life  in  darkness. 

Now  the  Jews  used  to  think  that  all  great  suffering 
was  sent  by  God  as  a  direct  punishment  for  sin,  and  the 
disciples  were  curious  to  know  whether  the  blind  man 
had  been  punished  with  blindness  through  his  parents' 
sin,  or  through  some  fault  of  his  own.  In  His  answer 
Jesus  taught  them  not  to  pass  harsh  judgments  on  others 
because  of  any  special  suffering  or  sorrow  in  their  lives, 
since  suffering  might  not  always  be  a  sign  of  God's  anger, 
but  rather  a  mark  of  His  love. 


242  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

The  man  had  been  born  blind,  He  said,  in  order  that 
the  glory  of  God  might  shine  out  through  his  cure. 
With  this  Jesus  stooped  down,  and,  with  moisture 
taken  from  His  holy  lips,  He  made  clay,  and  anointed 
the  beggar's  eyes,  and  bade  him  go  to  the  Pool  of 
Siloam  and  wash. 

The  blind  man  had  faith  in  Jesus'  power.  Staff  in 
hand,  he  groped  his  way  down  the  steep  hill  on  which  the 
Temple  stood,  until  he  reached  the  pool  at  its  foot.  Then, 
taking  a  little  water  in  his  hands,  he  washed  his  eyes,  and 
lo  !  as  the  water  touched  them  the  darkness  lifted,  and, 
bathed  in  the  sparkling  sunlight,  God's  beautiful  world  in 
all  its  freshness  and  splendour  lay  stretched  before  him. 

Do  we  not  seem  to  see  the  look  of  wondering  joy  and 
happiness  that  lights  up  the  beggar's  face,  as  he  turns  to 
go  up  to  the  Temple  to  thank  God  for  His  mercy  ?  The 
people  who  meet  him  hardly  recognise  him.  '  Surely  this 
is  not  the  blind  beggar  that  sat  at  the  Temple  gate  ? '  they 
say  to  one  another.  But  to  their  astonishment  they  find 
it  really  is  he,  and  when  they  come  crowding  round  him 
asking  by  what  miracle  he  had  been  made  to  see,  he 
answers  that  it  was  '  a  man  that  is  called  Jesus '  who  had 
done  it  all. 

Presently  we  see  the  beggar  standing  before  a  council 
of  the  Pharisees,  and  being  questioned  as  to  what  had 
happened.  As  he  tells  them  the  tale  of  his  cure,  and 
mentions  Jesus'  name,  scowling  looks  are  interchanged, 
and  angry  whispers  go  round.  They  profess  not  to 
believe  his  story  at  first,  but  when  they  find  they  cannot 
prove  it  false,  they  begin  to  attack  Jesus,  calling  Him  a 
sinner,  and  hinting  that  He  was  no  better  than  an 
impostor.  But  the  beggar  would  not  agree  to  this  ;  he 
was  only  a  poor  beggar,  and  they,  his  judges,  were  rich  and 
influential  Pharisees,  but  he  was  not  willing  to  stand  by 


THE  GOOD  SHEPIIET^D  24.3 

and  hear  Jesus  attacked,  without  saying  a  word  in  His 
defence.  Whoever  Jesus  might  be,  he  answered,  He 
certainly  could  not  be  a  sinner,  for  He  had  worked  a 
miracle  such  as  never  had  been  worked  in  all  the  world 
before,  and  His  working  it  was  a  proof  that  He  came 
down  from  God. 

Enraged  at  the  beggar's  answer,  the  Pharisees  *cast 
him  out,'  that  is,  they  locked  the  door  of  the  synagogue 
against  him,  and  forbade  him  to  attend  its  services. 

Jesus  heard  what  had  befallen  His  brave  confessor, 
and  He  sought  him  out.  When  He  had  found  him 
He  asked  him  if  he  believed  on  the  Son  of  God.  The 
beggar  had  never  seen  Jesus  until  that  instant,  but 
directly  He  spoke  he  knew  His  voice — he  would  never 
forget  its  music  in  all  the  coming  years.  '  Who  is  He, 
Lord  ? '  he  eagerly  asked.  Jesus  answered,  '  It  is  He  that 
talketh  with  thee.'  And  as  He  spoke  light  poured  in 
upon  the  beggar's  soul.  In  a  flash  he  saw  the  truth  ; 
Jesus  Himself  was  the  Son  of  God ;  and  with  the  cry, 
'  Lord,  I  believe,'  he  fell  down  at  His  feet  and  worshipped 
Him. 

It  was  shortly  after  this  that  Jesus  drew  that  beautiful 
picture  of  Himself  as  the  Good  Shepherd,  which  we  all 
know  and  love  so  well. 

The  Pharisees  professed  to  be  shepherds  of  the  people 
and  to  teach  and  lead  them  in  God's  ways,  but  they  were 
false  shepherds,  thinking  only  of  themselves  and  caring 
little  for  the  sheep.  Jesus  said  He  was  the  Good  Shep- 
herd, the  true,  the  fair,  the  beautiful,  ready  to  dare  all 
things  for  His  sheep,  not  "holding  back  His  life  to  save 
them  from  the  wolf.  As  the  Good  Shepherd  He  knew  His 
sheep  with  the  perfect  knowledge  of  an  all-loving  heart. 
He  went  before  them  on  the  hard  and  rugged  road  to 
Heaven,  and  as  He  went  He  called  them  with  His  lovinir 


244  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

voice,  and  they  followed  Him  and  He  gave  them  Eternal 
Life.  There  were  other  sheep  belonging  to  Him,  now 
lost  in  the  darkness  and  wandering  on  the  mountains  of 
the  world,  but  all  should  one  day  be  gathered  into  His 
fold,  and  there  should  be  one  flock  under  one  Shepherd. 

Does  any  other  name  speak  to  us  in  such  a  simple 
yet  beautiful  way  of  Jesus'  love  and  tenderness  as  this  of 
the  Good  Shepherd,  I  wonder  ?  You  have  heard  of  the 
Catacombs  at  Rome,  those  dark  underground  passages 
hollowed  out  in  all  directions  beneath  the  city,  where  the 
early  Christians  used  to  lead  a  hunted  life,  worshipping 
God  in  hourly  peril  of  imprisonment  and  death  ?  Upon 
the  walls  of  these  passages  are  to  be  seen  to-day  many 
traces  of  pictures  drawn  in  rude  outline  upon  the  walls. 
And  the  favourite  picture  of  all  is  Jesus  with  a  shepherd's 
crook,  carrying  a  lamb  upon  His  shoulders. 

Fathers  and  mothers,  we  may  be  sure,  would  often 
point  out  this  picture  of  the  Good  Shepherd  to  their  little 
children,  and  tell  them  the  story  of  that  great  love  of  His 
which  led  Him  to  lay  down  His  life  for  the  sheep.  And 
as  they  listened  the  children's  eyes  would  fill  with  tears, 
and  the  thought  of  the  Good  Shepherd's  love  would  sink 
into  their  hearts.  And  so  it  has  been  ever  since.  The 
])icture  of  Jesus  the  Good  Shepherd  has  been  dearer  to 
His  people  perhaps  than  any  other.  Especially  have  the 
children  always  loved  it  best.  Do  you  remember  those 
words  of  the  prophet  Isaiah  where  he  speaks  of  Jesus  as 
carrying  the  lambs  in  His  bosom  ? 

In  the  village  of  Bemerton,  where  good  George  Her- 
bert lived  and  worked  in  bygone  days,  a  parish  priest 
well  remembers  going  to  visit  a  little  girl  who  was  dying 
of  heart  disease.  One  day  he  took  her  a  little  drawing  of 
the  Good  Shepherd,  and  he  will  never  forget  how  her 
face  lighted  up  at  the  sight  of  it.     She  used  to  lie  and 


THE  GOOD  SHEPHERD  245 

look  at  it,  and  when  her  bad  attacks  of  pain  came  on  she 
could  not  rest  until  she  had  it  on  her  bed.  She  died 
holding  it  in  her  hands. 

'The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd;  I  shall  not  want.  He 
maketh  me  to  lie  down  in  green  pastures ;  He  leadeth 
me  beside  the  still  waters.  .  .  .  Yea,  though  I  walk 
through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear 
no  evil ;  for  Thou  art  with  me ;  Thy  rod  and  Thy  staff 
they  comfort  me.' 


XVI 


THE    MISSION     OF    THE     SEVENTY — THE    HEALING    OF    THE 

TEN   LEPERS JESUS   TEACHES   HIS   DISCIPLES    TO    PRAY 

THE     PARABLES     OF     THE     RICH     CHURL     AND     THE 

GOOD    SAMARITAN — THE    HOME    OF    BETHANY 

Driven  away  from  Jerusalem  by  the  plots  of  His 
enemies,  Jesus  went  back  again  to  Galilee.  There  He 
remained  for  a  little  while,  quietly  preparing  Himself  for 
the  end  which  was  now  drawing  very  near ;  then  once 
more  He  steadfastly  set  His  face  to  go  to  Jerusalem  to 
meet  His  death.  As  He  went  He  sent  a  band  of  seventy 
disciples,  two  by  two,  to  go  before  Him  into  the  different 
towns  and  villages  through  which  His  road  lay,  to  preach 
the  good  news  of  the  Kingdom,  and  to  gather  fresh  soldiers 
under  His  banner. 

Jesus  knew  His  cause  must  triumph  in  the  end,  and 
He  went  on  calmly  laying  the  foundations  of  His  King- 
dom, although  He  foresaw  all  the  suffering  and  pain  and 
seeming  defeat  that  was  coming  on.  He  knew  how 
impossible  it  was  for  men  to  fight  against  God,  and  how 
the  shame  and  the  failure  must  in  the  end  serve  as 
stepping-stones  to  victory.  Passing  between  the  borders 
of  Galilee  and  Samaria  He  made  His  way  into  Per^ea,  a 
district  lying  to  the  east  of  the  Jordan. 

As  He  passed  by  one  of  the  villages,  Jesus  saw  a  band 
of  ten   men  huddled  together  by  the  roadside  awaiting 


THE  TEN  LEPERS  247 

His  approach.  There  was  no  need  to  ask  the  reason  of 
their  sad  and  miserable  appearance;  their  hideous  garb 
of  sackcloth,  their  poor  disfigured  faces,  their  bandaged 
hands,  proclaimed  them  to  be  lepers.  As  soon  as  they 
caught  sight  of  Jesus  they  all  set  up  together  a  hoarse 
imploring  cry,  *. Jesus,  Master,  have  mercy  upon  us.' 
.Tesus  looked  at  them  with  pity  in  His  eyes.  '  Go  show 
yourselves  unto  the  priests,'  He  said.  It  was  as  much  as 
to  say,  '  Your  prayer  is  granted  ;  you  have  only  to  show 
yourselves  to  the  priest  to  be  pronounced  clean.'  And 
the  lepers  believed  Jesus'  word ;  they  turned  to  go,  and 
as  they  went  they  felt  the  thrill  of  a  new  life  within  their 
veins,  the  taint  of  leprosy  disappeared,  and  their  flesh 
came  again  like  the  flesh  of  a  little  child. 

Yet  although  by  a  word  Jesus  had  rescued  these 
ten  men  from  a  living  death,  and  given  them  back 
the  blessings  of  health  and  home  and  happiness,  only 
one  of  them  took  the  trouble  to  turn  back  to  thank 
their  Deliverer,  and  he  was  a  poor,  despised,  outcast 
Samaritan.  Jesus  was  growing  accustomed  to  ingrati- 
tude, yet  He  felt  the  thanklessness  of  these  men  very 
deeply. 

'  VYere  there  not  ten  cleansed  ? '  He  asked  sorrow- 
fully, *  but  where  are  the  nine  ?  There  are  not  found 
who  returned  to  give  glory  to  God,  save  this  stranger. 
Then  turning  to  the  man  at  His  feet,  'Arise,  go  thy 
way  ; '  He  said,  '  thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole.' 

An  old  legend  tells  us  that  God  was  so  angry  w^ith 
the  ungrateful  nine  that,  as  a  punishment  for  their  ingrati- 
tude, He  gave  them  back  their  leprosy  again.  But,  how- 
ever this  may  be,  they  lost  at  any  rate  a  precious  gift 
the  grateful  Samaritan  gained — I  mean  Christ's  blessing. 
They  received  the  healing  of  the  body ;  he  received  the 
better  healing  of  his  soul  as  well. 


248  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

We  know  how  much  time  Jesus  used  to  spend  in 
prayer.  *  Prayer  came  as  naturally  from  Jesus'  lips  as 
perfume  from  a  flower.'  Though  day  by  day  His  feet 
trod  the  dusty  paths  of  earth,  yet  His  heart  was  always 
turned  towards  Heaven.  One  day  as  He  was  praying, 
His  disciples  stood  looking  on  with  wistful  eyes.  Ah,  if 
they  could  only  pray  like  Jesus !  When  they  tried  to 
pray,  the  words  would  not  come.  They  wanted  to  speak 
to  God,  but  they  hardly  knew  what  to  say  to  Him  or 
how  to  say  it.  If  Jesus  would  only  teach  them  !  Jesus 
was  glad  to  find  that  His  disciples  desired  to  pra^,  better, 
for  in  prayer,  He  knew,  lay  the  grand  secret  of  a  holy 
life,  and  without  prayer  the  soul  could  not  be  kept  alive. 
And  so  in  answer  to  their  request,  '  Lord,  teach  us  to 
pray,'  He  gave  them  '  the  pearl  of  prayers,'  as  it  has  been 
called,  that  most  beautiful  of  all  petitions,  which  we 
know  by  the  name  of  the  'Lord's  prayer.'  'When  ye 
pray,'  He  said,  '  say.  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven. 
Hallowed  be  Thy  name.  Thy  kingdom  come.  Thy  will 
be  done  in  earth,  as  it  is  in  heaven.  Give  us  this  day 
our  daily  bread.  And  forgive  us  our  debts,  as  we  forgive 
our  debtors.  And  lead  us  not  into  temptation,  but 
deliver  us  from  evil :  For  Thine  is  the  kingdom,  and  the 
power,  and  the  glory,  for  ever.     Amen.' 

And  then,  having  taught  His  disciples  how  to  pray, 
Jesus  went  on  to  tell  them  never  to  get  tired  of  praying. 
God  might  sometimes  seem  to  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  their 
prayers,  but  if  they  only  kept  on  praying  earnestly  and 
perseveringly  He  would  send  them  an  answer  in  the  end. 
To  impress  this  truth  upon  their  minds.  He  told  them  the 
story  of  the  man  with  the  empty  cupboard.  One  night  a 
certain  man  receives  a  visit  from  a  friend  who  is  taking  a 
journey,  and  to  his  dismay  he  finds  he  has  no  food  to  set 
before  him.     In  the  East  it  is  considered  a  great  disgrace 


A  QUESTION  ABOUT  MONEY  249 

to  let  a  guest  go  hungry,  and  the  host  is  at  his  wits'  end 
to  know  what  to  do.  Suddenly  he  bethinks  himself  of 
another  friend  of  his  who  lives  close  by.  Why  should  he 
not  go  and  borrow  some  bread  of  him  ?  he  thinks.  And 
so  he  goes  to  his  friend's  house,  and,  standing  beneath  his 
window,  calls  out  to  him  and  asks  him  to  lend  him  three 
loaves.  But  the  friend  is  in  bed  and  in  no  particular 
hurry  to  get  up.  '  I  have  gone  to  bed,'  he  cries  out 
in  answer,  '  and  the  door  is  fastened.  I  cannot  help  you.' 
But  the  man  keeps  on  begging  for  just  three  loaves, 
until  at  last,  with  a  sigh  and  a  grumble,  the  tired  sleeper 
gets  up  from  his  bed  and  goes  to  his  cupboard  and  gives 
the  man  an  armful  of  loaves,  only  too  glad  to  be  rid  of 
him.  If  a  man  can  get  what  he  wants  from  an  unwilling 
friend  just  by  keeping  on  asking  for  it,  how  much  more, 
our  Lord  seems  to  say,  will  earnest  persevering  prayer 
avail  with  God,  who  is  more  ready  to  hear  than  w^e  are  to 
pray,  and  is  wont  to  give  more  than  either  we  desire  or 
deserve. 

It  was  perhaps  about  this  time  that  a  man  came  to 
Jesus  with  the  request  that  He  would  help  him  to  get  his 
share  of  some  money  that  had  been  left  him,  and  which 
his  brother  would  not  give  up. 

Jesus  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  any  miserable 
quarrels  about  money  ;  besides,  He  saw  the  greed  and  the 
selfishness  that  lay  at  the  man's  heart,  and  it  displeased 
Him.  'Man,'  He  answered,  *who  made  Me  a  judge  or 
a  divider  over  you  ?'  And  then  He  began  to  warn  His 
hearers  against  the  sin  of  covetousness. 

Have  you  ever  thought,  with  all  the  riches  of  the 
world  at  His  call,  how  little  Jesus  cared  about  money  ? 
He  lived  on  charity.  A  little  before,  we  read  how  He 
and  His  disciples  had  not  half-a-crown  amongst  them ; 
for  when  He  was  asked  to  pay  the  Temple  tax  which 


250  THE  CHILD  S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

came  to  about  half-a-crown  of  our  money,  He  had  nothing 
to  pay  it  with,  and  St.  Peter  was  sent  to  cast  a  hook  into 
the  sea,  and  take  the  silver  coin  that  was  asked  for,  from 
a  fish's  mouth, 

A  man's  true  hfe,  so  Jesus  taught,  consists  in  what  he 
is  and  not  in  what  he  has.  Life  is  not  riches  and  enjoy- 
ment, it  is  character ;  it  is  being  good  and  doing  good. 
To  drive  this  lesson  home,  He  spoke  the  parable  of  the 
rich  churl. 

There  was  once  a  man  whom  God  had  blessed  with  a 
very  rich  estate.  Year  after  year  his  harvests  grew  more 
and  more  abundant  until  there  was  no  room  left  in  his 
storehouses  for  the  produce  of  his  fields.  But  he  was  a 
man  of  a  greedy,  grasping  spirit ;  he  forgot  that  his  wealth 
was  a  trust  from  God,  to  be  used  for  the  good  of  others 
besides  himself;  to  feed  the  mouth  of  the  hungry  and  to 
make  the  widow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy.  Strolling  through 
his  fields  one  day  and  taking  note  of  his  overfilled  store- 
houses and  unstored  crops,  he  said  to  himself, '  To-morrow 
I  will  begin  to  pull  down  these  storehouses  of  mine  and 
will  build  larger  and  finer  ones  for  myself,  and  then  there 
will  be  nothing  left  to  trouble  about ;  I  shall  be  able  to 
look  forward  to  a  long  and  comfortable  and  easy  life  for 
many  years  to  come.'  But  even  as  he  spoke  God's  voice 
sounded  in  his  ears,  '  Thou  fool,  this  night  thy  soul  shall 
be  required  of  thee ;  then  whose  shall  those  things  be 
which  thou  hast  provided  ? '  That  night  the  rich  man 
died.  Poor,  foolish,  rich  man  I  to  take  so  much  trouble 
to  get  earth's  gold  which  he  could  not  keep,  and  to 
lose  the  better  gold  of  Heaven  that  would  have  lasted 
always  —  the  treasure  that  no  one  could  have  taken 
from  him.  So  it  is,  our  Lord  adds,  with  all  those  who 
lay  up  treasure  for  themselves  and  are  not  rich  towards 
God— 


THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN  251 

'  Our  treasures  moth  and  rust  corrupt, 

Or  thieves  break  through  and  steal,  or  they 
Make  themselves  wings  and  fly  away. 
One  man  made  merry  as  he  supped, 
Nor  guessed  how  when  that  night  grew  dim. 
His  soul  would  be  required  of  him.' 

It  was  the  Sabbath  day  and  Jesus  was  in  one  of  tlie 
village  synagogues,  when  He  saw  before  Him  a  poor 
woman,  whose  back  was  so  bent  and  twisted  that  for 
eighteen  years  she  had  not  been  able  to  sit  or  stand 
upright.  Laying  His  hands  upon  her,  Jesus  cured  her 
of  her  sad  affliction. 

The  ruler  of  the  synagogue  was  very  angry  because 
Jesus  had  worked  this  miracle  of  mercy  on  the  Sabbath. 
But,  because  he  was  a  coward,  he  did  not  dare  to  attack 
Jesus  openly,  but  found  fault  with  the  woman. 

There  were  six  days  when  it  was  possible  to  get  cured 
without  breaking  God's  law,  he  said,  why  had  she  not 
sought  help  on  one  of  these  ? 

But  Jesus  turned  upon  him  with  indignation,  and  told 
him  he  was  a  hypocrite.  Even  a  dumb  beast  might  be 
untied  and  led  to  water  on  the  Sabbath  day,  after  having 
been  bound  but  for  a  few  short  hours.  Was  there  any 
reason  why  a  poor  afflicted  woman,  one  of  God's  own 
children,  should  be  treated  worse  than  a  beast  ?  Was  it  a 
sin  that  she  should  be  loosed  on  the  Sabbath  day,  after 
having  been,  by  Satan's  power,  fast  bound  in  misery  and 
iron  for  eighteen  years  ? 

And  when  He  said  this,  all  His  adversaries  were 
ashamed,  and  the  people  rejoiced  for  the  glorious  things 
that  were  done  by  Him. 

While  still  journeying  towards  Jerusalem,  Jesus  spoke 
the  parable  of  the  good  Samaritan.  It  came  in  answer 
to  a  question  put  to  Him  by  one  of  the  Jewish  lawyers. 


252  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

'  Master,  what  shall  I  do  to  inherit  eternal  life  ? '  Whether 
the  lawyer  wanted  to  test  Jesus'  power  as  a  teacher,  or 
whether  he  really  wanted  to  find  out  the  secret  of  the 
Heavenly  life,  we  do  not  know.  At  any  rate,  Jesus  told 
him  that  he  had  asked  a  question  which  he  should  have 
been  able  to  answer  for  himself. 

What  was  written  in  the  Law  ?  And  as  He  spoke, 
perhaps.  He  pointed  to  the  little  square  black  box  the 
lawyer  wore  upon  his  wrist,  containing  the  'reminder 
verses '  he  used  to  say  as  a  child  at  his  mother's  knee. 

And  the  lawyer  answered,  '  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord 
thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and 
with  all  thy  strength,  and  with  all  thy  mind ;  and  thy 
neighbour  as  thyself.'  '  Thou  hast  answered  right,' 
Jesus  said.  '  This  do,  and  thou  shalt  live. '  But  the  lawyer 
was  not  satisfied.  He  could  not  say  that  Jesus  had  not 
given  him  a  perfect  answer,  but  it  vexed  him  to  think 
that  the  people  who  stood  by  should  hear  him,  the  clever 
lawyer,  ask  a  question  which  could  be  so  easily  answered. 
And  so  to  hide  his  discomfiture  he  asked  a  second  ques- 
tion, *  And  who  is  my  neighbour  ? '  For  reply  Jesus  told 
him  the  following  story  : — 

A  traveller  left  Jerusalem  one  day,  intending  to  go 
down  to  the  beautiful  city  of  Jericho,  which  lay  about 
twenty  miles  off.  The  road  by  which  he  went  was  a  very 
wild  as  well  as  a  very  dangerous  one.  It  led  downhill 
through  a  deep  and  rocky  ravine,  known  as  the  Bloody 
Way,  because  of  the  robbers  who  infested  it  and  who  used 
to  attack  the  passers-by,  and  rob  and  even  murder  them. 
As  the  traveller,  staff  in  hand,  fares  onward,  suddenly  a 
band  of  these  fierce  mountain  robbers  rush  out  upon  him. 
They  seize  him  and  strip  him  of  everything,  even  to  his 
very  clothes ;  then  a  few  hasty  stabs,  and  he  is  left  for 
dead  by  the  roadside. 


THE   GOOD   SAMAKIl  AN 


THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN  253 

As  he  lies  there  all  stark  and  motionless,  his  life-blood 
slowly  streaming  away,  a  priest  comes  along  the  road. 
He  has  just  been  up  to  Jerusalem  to  take  his  turn  at 
offering  the  Temple  sacrifices,  and  is  now  returning  home 
to  Jericho.  He  draws  near  to  where  the  wounded 
traveller  lies ;  he  sees  him,  but  instead  of  going  to  his 
help,  he  throws  a  startled  glance  around  and,  crossing 
to  the  otlier  side  of  the  road,  hastens  on  his  way.  How 
does  he  know  that  the  robbers  may  not  be  lurking  in 
some  cave  near  at  hand,  and  that  he  may  not  fall  into 
their  clutches  himself  ? 

Presently  another  of  God's  servants  comes  along.  It 
is  a  Levite  this  time,  and  he  too  chances  upon  the 
wounded  man  by  the  roadside.  He  does  not  turn  aside 
at  once  like  the  priest;  he  draws  near,  and,  looking  down 
upon  the  poor  stripped  body  with  its  cruel  gashes,  is  half 
inclined  to  try  what  he  can  do  to  save  the  traveller's  life. 
But  after  all,  it  is  no  business  of  his,  he  thinks.  Every 
one  for  himself;  better  move  away  from  such  a  dangerous 
spot  as  soon  as  possible.  So  the  Levite  follows  the 
priest. 

But  the  help  these  two  hard-hearted  men  deny  their 
dying  fellow-countryman  is  given  at  last  by  a  man  who 
is  a  stranger  and  a  foreigner. 

A  Samaritan  comes  riding  down  the  glen.  He 
catches  sight  of  the  wounded  man,  and  without  a  thought 
of  the  danger  that  might  be  lurking  among  the  rocks, 
caring  nothing  wliether  the  wounded  man  is  a  liated  .lew 
or  not,  he  hastens  to  his  side  and  does  his  best  to  stanch 
his  wounds.  Then  tenderly  bearing  him  in  his  arms  to 
where  his  ass  is  tethered,  he  sets  him  upon  its  back  and 
brings  him  to  the  nearest  khan  or  inn.  All  night  long 
he  stays  by  his  side,  and  in  the  morning,  taking  two 
silver  pieces  from  his  girdle,  he  gives  them  to  the  inn- 


254  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

keeper,  bidding  him  '  Take  care  of  him,  and  whatsoever 
thou  spendest  more,  when  I  come  again,  I  will  repay 
thee.' 

When  Jesus  had  finished  His  story.  He  asked  the 
lawyer  which  of  these  three  men  he  thought  was 
'neighbour'  to  the  man  who  fell  among  the  robbers. 
Tlie  lawyer  replied,  '  He  that  showed  the  pity.'  Then 
said  Jesus  to  him,  '  Go,  and  do  thou  likewise.' 

And  so  the  lawyer  found  his  ansv'er ;  his  neighbour 
was  anybody  who  needed  his  help.  And  so  Jesus  seems 
to  speak  to  us,  bidding  us  make  loving-kindness  the  law 
of  our  lives.  '  Be  ready,'  He  seems  to  say,  *  to  lend  a 
helping  hand  to  those,  whoever  they  may  be,  that  are  in 
need  of  help.  Whenever  you  meet  any  one  in  trouble, 
remember  he  is  your  neighbour,  and  act  a  neighbour's 
part  towards  him. 

The  kindness  you  may  be  able  to  show  may  be  very 
small ;  it  may  only  be  to  dry  the  eyes  of  a  little  child 
or  to  take  a  bunch  of  flowers  to  some  sickroom,  or  to 
speak  a  helpful  word  to  one  in  trouble ;  but  whatever  it 
may  be,  do  it ;  do  not  leave  it  for  others  to  do.  It  is  your 
work,  not  theirs.' 

Some  little  barefooted  children  were  once  playing  in 
a  street  in  Glasgow.  A  poor  woman,  as  she  passed  by  the 
place  where  they  were,  bent  down  and  began  to  gather  up 
something  from  the  pavement.  A  policeman  noticed 
what  she  was  doing,  and,  thinking  she  was  carrying  off 
something  which  did  not  belong  to  her,  followed  her  and 
asked  to  see  what  she  had  been  picking  up.  The  poor 
woman  timidly  opened  her  apron  and  showed  him  some 
pieces  of  broken  glass.  '  I  wanted  to  take  them  out  of  the 
way  of  the  bairns'  feet,'  she  said.  That  poor  woman  had 
the  spirit  of  the  good  Samaritan  ;  she  had  learned  the 
lesson  of  loving-kindness  that  Jesus  would  have  us  all 


THE  HOME  OF  BETHANY  25.5 

learn.  *  I  shall  pass  through  this  world  but  once,'  says  a 
writer ;  '  any  good  thing  therefore  that  I  can  do,  or  any 
kindness  tliat  I  can  sliow  to  any  human  being,  let  nie  do 
it  now.  Let  me  not  defer  it  or  neglect  it,  for  I  shall  not 
pass  this  way  again.' 

Some  two  miles  from  Jerusalem,  Jesus  came  to  a  little 
village  called  Bethany.  It  was  the  home  of  two  sisters, 
Martha  and  Mary,  and  of  their  brother,  Lazarus.  Jesus 
dearly  loved  the  members  of  this  little  household,  and 
they  loved  Him  dearly  in  return.  When  He  was  at 
.Jerusalem,  He  would  often  climb  the  green  slope  of  the 
Mount  of  Olives,  and  make  His  way  to  the  rocky  height 
upon  which  the  little  village  stood,  in  order  to  spend 
a  quiet  hour  at  Bethany.  There  would  always  be  a 
welcome  awaiting  Him  in  the  home  of  His  friends. 
Water  to  bathe  His  dusty  feet  would  never  be  lacking, 
nor  a  couch  whereon  to  rest;  and  when  He  reclined 
at  table,  there  were  loving  hands  to  minister  to  His 
every  want,  and  loving  hearts  ever  open  to  receive 
His  teaching. 

The  two  sisters,  Martha  and  Mary,  were  both  good 
and  holy  women,  though  very  different  from  one  another 
in  character.  Martha,  the  elder  of  the  two,  was  active 
and  warm-hearted  and  full  of  energy,  while  Mary  was 
of  a  more  gentle  and  thoughtful  nature.  God  does  not 
make  His  saints  according  to  one  set  pattern. 

How  gladly  the  sisters  welcomed  Jesus  that  day,  as, 
footsore  and  weary.  He  drew  to  their  door!  Eager, 
happy,  bustling  JNIartha  must  at  once  begin  to  get  a  meal 
ready  for  Him — He  must  be  so  hungry  and  thirsty  after 
His  long  walk,  she  thinks.  And  so  she  sets  busily  to 
work  to  spread  the  table  and  kindle  the  fire  and  make 
all  the  necessary  preparations  for  the  midday  meal. 
Meanwhile  Mary  takes  her  place  at  Jesus'  feet,  and  gazing 


256  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

upon  His  dear  face,  she  prepares  to  listen  to  those  tender, 
wonderful  words  which  only  He  knew  how  to  speak. 
To  sit  at  Jesus'  feet  while  He  spoke,  that  was  Mary's 
Heaven. 

'  Her  prayer-books  had  repose, 
One  word  her  heart  sufficed, 
Scent  of  the  hidden  rose, 
Christ ! ' 

But  by  and  by  Martha  becomes  impatient.  She  is 
so  anxious  to  prepare  a  splendid  meal,  and  there  is  so 
much  to  do,  and  she  is  left  to  do  it  all  alone.  Why,  in- 
stead of  sitting  still,  does  not  Mary  help  her  ? 

*  Lord,'  she  says,  coming  to  Jesus,  '  do  you  not  care 
that  my  sister  has  left  me  to  serve  alone  ?  Bid  her  there- 
fore that  she  help  me.' 

But  Jesus  only  answers,  *  Martha,  Martha,  thou  art 
anxious  and  troubled  about  many  things,  but  one  thing 
is  needful,  and  Mary  hath  chosen  that  good  part  which 
shall  not  be  taken  away  from  her.'  Jesus  was  not  blaming 
Martha  for  being  occupied  in  loving  service,  but  for  being 
over  anxious  in  it.  After  all  there  was  something  more 
important  than  earthly  food ;  there  was  the  food  of  the 
soul,  and  Mary  was  doing  right  in  caring  for  this.  The 
earthly  food  satisfied  for  a  while,  the  Heavenly  food 
lasted  forever. 

There  are  few  Bible  pictures  more  pleasant  to  look 
upon  than  this  of  Jesus  at  the  home  of  Bethany,  with 
Mary  at  His  feet,  and  Martha  busied  at  His  elbow  with 
acts  of  loving  ministry. 

Set  here,  as  it  is,  in  the  midst  of  the  story  of  the 
growing  hatred  of  Jesus'  enemies,  it  comes  like  a  little 
patch  of  blue  in  a  stormy  sky. 

There  is  a  little  poem  in  which  the  writer  asks  her- 
self which   of  the  two   sisters  whom   Jesus   loved   she 


THE  HOME  OF  BETHANY  257 

would    have   liked   to    be,  and  this  is  how  she  answers 
her  own  question — 

'  I  cannot  choose,  I  should  have  liked  so  much 
To  sit  at  Jesus'  feet— to  feel  the  touch 
Of  His  kind,  gentle  hand  upon  my  head, 
While  drinking  in  the  gracious  words  He  said. 

*  And  yet  to  serve  Him  !     O  divine  employ  ! — 
To  muiister  and  give  the  Master  joy. 
To  bathe  in  coolest  springs  His  weary  feet. 
To  wait  upon  Him  while  He  sat  at  meat ! 

'  Worship  or  service — which  ?     Ah,  that  is  best 
To  which  He  calls  us,  be  it  toil  or  rest — 
To  labour  for  Him  in  life's  busy  stir, 
Or  seek  His  feet,  a  silent  worshipper.' 


XVII 

JESUS      AT     THE      FEAST      OF      DEDICATION  —  THE     MEAL 

AT   THE   Pharisee's    house,  and   what    happened 

AT      IT THE      PARABLES      OF      THE     GREAT       SUPPER, 

THE     LOST     SHEEP,    THE     LOST     COIN,    AND     THE     PRO- 
DIGAL   SON 

About  two  months  had  passed  by  since  Jesus  was  at 
Jerusalem  at  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles.  He  now  re- 
turned to  the  city  once  more  to  keep  another  joyous 
feast,  the  Feast  of  the  Dedication,  or  the  Feast  of  Lights, 
as  it  was  also  called.  This  was  a  festival  kept  in  memory 
of  the  re-dedication  of  the  Temple  Altar  after  it  had 
been  polluted  in  a  dreadful  fashion  by  the  King  of  Syria, 
some  two  hundred  years  before.  It  owed  its  other  name, 
the  Feast  of  Lights,  to  the  fact  that  as  long  as  it  lasted 
lamps  were  lighted  in  every  house  at  sunset,  and  the 
Temple  itself  was  brilliantly  illuminated,  so  that  the 
whole  city  gleamed  and  sparkled  with  a  thousand  fires. 

It  was  '  the  cold  month  '  of  icy  winds  and  weeping  skies, 
and  Jesus  was  walking  in  the  shelter  of  the  great  eastern 
arcade  of  the  Temple,  which  went  by  the  name  of 
Solomon's  Porch.  Hearing  that  He  was  in  the  Temple, 
the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  came  crowding  around  Him, 
and  began  to  argue  and  dispute  with  Him,  asking  Him 
to  tell  them  plainly  whether  He  were  really  the  Christ  or 
not.  Jesus  told  them  that  His  works  showed  who  He 
really  was ;  the  reason  why  they  did  not  believe  in  Him 


THE  MAN  WITH  THE  DROPSY  259 

was  because  they  had  nothing  in  common  with  Him ; 
they  were  not  His  sheep,  and  so  they  did  not  know  His 
voice.  He  then  went  on  to  make  a  most  tremendous 
claim ;  He  told  them  that  He  and  His  Father  were  One. 
This  so  enraged  the  Jews  that,  in  their  fury,  they  took 
up  stones  to  stone  Him ;  but  Jesus'  time  to  die  had  not 
yet  come.  Calmly  He  confronted  them,  and  again,  with 
the  step  and  bearing  of  a  King,  He  passed  through  the 
midst  of  the  raging  crowd  unhurt. 

He  now  left  Jerusalem  to  wander  once  more  in 
Perasa,  '  the  other  side  of  Jordan,'  the  fair  district  of 
clear  streams  and  sunny  cornfields,  which  ran  up  to  the 
yellow  edges  of  the  eastern  desert,  and  was  shadowed 
by  the  blue  mountains  of  Gilead.  While  in  Persea 
He  accepted  an  invitation  from  one  of  the  Pharisees 
to  break  bread  in  his  house.  It  was  the  Sabbath 
day,  and  the  assembled  guests  sat  watching  Jesus  with 
hard,  unfriendly  eyes,  to  see  whether  He  would  break 
any  of  the  Sabbath  rules.  Among  the  crowd  that 
had  followed  Him  into  the  Pharisee's  house  was  a  man 
suffering  from  the  dropsy.  Turning  to  the  company  of 
self-righteous  Pharisees  and  lawyers  who  were  so  eager 
to  catch  Him  tripping,  Jesus  asked  them  whether  it  were 
lawful  to  heal  on  the  Sabbath  day.  Suspecting  some 
trap,  perhaps,  they  kept  silence.  Then  Jesus  took  the 
man  and  healed  him,  and  let  him  go,  and  said  to  them, 
'  Which  of  you  shall  leave  an  ox  or  an  ass  fallen  into  a 
pit,  and  will  not  straightway  pull  him  out  on  the  Sabbath 
day  ? '  And  still  His  enemies  could  find  no  words  to 
answer  Him,  but  could  only  look  on  in  helpless,  speech- 
less mpljce. 

Noticing  how  eagerly  some  of  the  guests  pushed 
forward  to  secure  the  central  seat  of  honour  at  the  feast, 
Jesus,    the  greatest  Guest   among   them    all,    began   to 


260  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

preach  them  a  little  sermon  on  humility.  He  reminded 
them  how  easily  the  man  who  pushed  himself,  unbidden, 
into  the  best  seat,  might  be  put  to  shame  by  being  turned 
out  of  it  again  in  favour  of  some  more  honoured  guest. 
Pride  and  selfishness,  He  pointed  out,  did  not  always 
answer  even  among  men  ;  they  certainly  did  not  answer 
with  God.  It  was  God's  way  to  abase  the  proud  and  to 
exalt  the  humble  of  heart.  '  The  road  to  the  honours  of 
Heaven,'  He  taught,  *  passes  at  all  times  through  the 
gate  of  humility.' 

Jesus'  host  was  probably  a  proud  man  himself,  who 
loved  to  gather  the  rich  and  the  well-to-do  around  him, 
in  order  to  make  a  display  of  his  wealth  and  hospitality. 
Perhaps  this  was  the  reason  why  Jesus  now  addresses  a 
word  of  warning  to  him  as  well.  He  tells  him  when 
giving  a  feast  not  to  invite  his  friends  and  relations  and 
rich  neighbours ;  they  would  feel  bound  to  invite  him  in 
return,  and  he  would  get  his  reward.  Let  him  rather 
invite  the  poor,  the  maimed,  the  lame,  the  blind — those 
who  could  make  him  no  return ;  that  would  be  a  really 
kindly  and  generous  action,  and  God  Himself  would 
reward  it  at  the  last  Great  Day  of  Recompense. 

These  words  of  Jesus  seem  to  have  recalled  to  the 
mind  of  one  of  those  present,  the  thought  of  the  wonder- 
ful never-ending  Banquet,  which,  an  old  tradition  taught, 
would  be  given  by  Christ  to  the  Jews,  at  His  coming. 
'  Blessed  is  he  that  shall  eat  bread  in  the  Kingdom  of 
God,'  he  said,  no  doubt  in  a  very  self-satisfied  voice,  as 
who  should  say, '  I  am  one  of  God's  people,  and  there  is 
sure  to  be  a  place  for  me  at  the  Banquet,  whoever  else 
may  not  be  there.'  In  reply,  Jesus  spoke  the  parable  of 
the  great  supper. 

There  was  a  man.  He  said,  who  made  a  great  supper 
and   sent  out  invitations  to  many  guests.      When  the 


THE  GREAT  SUPPER  261 

supper  was  ready,  after  the  Eastern  fashion  he  sent  a 
messenger  to  summon  the  guests  to  liis  house.  But  they 
would  not  come  ;  one  made  one  excuse  and  one  another : 
this  man  had  bought  a  piece  of  ground,  and  wanted  to 
go  and  see  it ;  this  other  had  bought  five  yoke  of  oxen, 
and  was  just  starting  out  to  try  them  with  the  plough, 
while  a  third  had  married  a  wife,  and  therefore  professed 
not  to  be  able  to  come. 

Angry  at  this  ungenerous  behaviour  on  the  part  of 
his  rich  friends,  the  host  opens  his  doors  to  an  altogether 
different  class  of  people. 

The  servant  is  sent  out,  first  into  the  streets  and 
lanes  of  the  city,  to  gather  in  the  poor,  the  sick,  and  the 
afflicted,  and  then,  when  there  is  found  to  be  still  room, 
into  the  highways  and  hedges,  to  seek  out  the  veriest 
outcasts  and  beggars.  At  last  the  supper-room  is  filled. 
Every  one  who  presents  himself  finds  a  welcome ;  only 
the  first  invited  guests  are  shut  out,  and  not  allowed  a 
taste  of  the  supper. 

Whether  those  to  whom  the  parable  was  spoken 
understood  its  meaning,  we  do  not  know,  but  its  mean- 
ing is  clear  enough  to  ourselves. 

The  giver  of  the  banquet  stands  for  God ;  the  banquet 
itself  is  a  picture  of  the  blessings  of  the  Gospel,  those 
good  things  which  pass  all  understanding,  which  God 
tias  prepared  for  those  who  love  Him.  The  first  invited 
guests  w'ere  the  learned  classes,  and  religious  teachers  of 
the  Jewish  nation,  while  the  messenger  whom  God  sent 
to  call  them  was  Jesus  Himself,  who  at  His  birth,  as 
St.  Paul  tells  us,  took  upon  Him  the  form  of  a  Servant. 
But  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees,  the  chief  priests  and  the 
scribes,  would  not  accept  the  invitation  Jesus  came  to 
bring  them.  Then  said  God  to  His  Servant,  '  Go  into 
the  streets  and  lanes  of  the  city  and  gather  together  the 


262  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

publicans  and  the  sinners,  the  humble,  the  ignorant,  and 
the  despised ' ;  and  the  Servant  did  so.  There  was  no 
need  of  a  second  invitation  ;  gladly  was  the  call  obeyed, 
and  to  the  King's  table  come  the  rough  fishermen  of 
Galilee,  the  half-heathen  men  of  Decapolis,  Levi  the 
tax-gatherer,  Mary  Magdalene,  the  woman  of  Samaria, 
and  many  another  humble,  repentant  soul  whom  the 
world  despised.  And  when  there  was  still  room — for 
God's  Banquet  Hall  was  built  to  take  in  all  the  world 
— north  and  south,  east  and  west  the  message  ran,  and 
the  despised  Gentiles  came  crowding  in.  No  longer  is 
the  message  of  salvation  for  the  Jews  alone.  '  The 
Kingdom  of  God  has  become  a  Catholic  Church,  a 
resting-place,  a  feast  of  good  things  for  all  nations  and 
languages  and  people  and  tongues.' 

Leaving  the  Pharisee's  house,  with  its  well-spread 
table  and  throng  of  fashionable  guests,  Jesus  sought 
once  more  the  shelter  of  His  humble  lodging,  where 
no  rich  carpets  were  spread  upon  the  floor,  and  where 
none  of  higher  rank  than  His  twelve  fishermen  dis- 
ciples ever  entered. 

By  and  by  the  publicans  and  sinners  began  to 
gather  about  His  door  with  wistful,  eager  faces.  Would 
Jesus  not  come  out  and  give  them  some  message  of 
comfort  and  of  hope  ? 

One  of  the  things  which  the  Pharisees  could  not 
understand  about  Jesus  was  the  way  in  which  He  treated 
these  poor  despised  outcasts.  He  always  had  a  kind 
word  for  them;  He  never  seemed  to  think  He  was 
lowering  Himself  by  mixing  with  them  ;  He  would  even 
go  so  far  as  to  eat  at  their  tables.  What  could  be  the 
reason  of  His  thus  befriending  and  taking  an  interest  in 
such  people  as  these  ?  Had  they  only  known  it,  the 
reason  was  not  far  to  seek.     Jesus  had  the  artist's  eye ; 


THE  LOST  SHEEP  2G3 

He  could  see  God's  image  in  the  most  degraded,  just  as, 
beneath  the  rough-stained  block  of  marble,  the  sculptor 
sees  the  pure  white  form  of  some  lovely  angel.  It  was 
not  because  He  thought  lightly  of  sin,  but  because  He 
loved  the  sinner,  that  He  took  him  by  the  hand.  He 
wanted  to  raise  him  up,  and  give  him  a  place  among  the 
children  of  God.  Was  it  to  be  wondered  at  that  the 
publicans  and  sinners  were  glad  to  welcome  Jesus  ?  He 
made  them  feel  they  were  worth  something;  He  filled 
their  lives  with  hope,  and  gave  them  back  their  faith 
in  God. 

Seeing  Jesus  enter  the  crowd  of  outcasts,  and  begin  to 
move  among  them  with  words  of  kindly  welcome,  the 
Pharisees  and  Scribes  began  to  murmur  and  find  fault. 
*This  man  receiveth  sinners  and  eateth  with  them,'  they 
said  in  tones  of  disgust.  It  was  in  answer  to  this  bitter 
speech  that  Jesus  spoke  three  parables,  all  teaching  the 
same  lesson — God's  boundless  love  for  the  wandering 
and  the  lost. 

First  of  all  He  drew  a  picture  of  a  shepherd  feeding 
his  flock  in  the  wilderness.  One  evening,  as  the  sun 
sinks  behind  the  hills,  a  shepherd  leads  his  flock  into  the 
shelter  of  the  fold.  On  counting  his  sheep,  he  finds  to 
his  dismay  that  one  of  them  is  missing.  Darkness  is 
coming  on,  the  wind  is  blowing  in  great  gusts,  and  there 
is  a  mutter  of  thunder  among  the  distant  hills ;  but  the 
shepherd  does  not  hesitate.  Wrapping  his  cloak  around 
him,  and  taking  his  crook  in  his  hand,  he  sets  off"  in 
search  of  the  strayed  beast.  He  knows  too  well  the 
dangers  that  beset  it.  The  wilderness  is  wide,  and  there 
are  thorns  and  briars  upon  the  mountains.  Many  a  lost 
sheep  has  been  caught  in  a  thicket  before  now,  and  kept 
a  helpless  prisoner  until  set  free  by  death.  There  are 
high  rocks  and  dangerous  precipices  besides,  over  which  a 


264  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

sheep  may  easily  fall  and  be  killed ;  worst  danger  of  all, 
perhaps,  there  is  the  snarling  wolf-pack  out  upon  the 
plain.  The  shepherd  seems  to  see  their  eyes  shining  in 
the  darkness  like  sparks  of  fire,  and  to  hear  the  snap  of 
their  cruel,  hungry  jaws.  Swiftly  and  silently  he  takes 
his  way  over  the  lonely  hills.  The  stones  and  the  briars 
cut  and  pierce  his  feet,  the  cold  wind  and  the  driving  rain 
beat  upon  his  head,  but  still  he  presses  on,  searching 
with  his  lantern  every  hill  and  hollow. 

At  last  his  heart  gives  a  leap.  There,  drenched  with 
the  rain,  and  huddled  at  the  foot  of  some  rock,  lies  the 
lost  sheep,  more  dead  than  alive. 

There  is  no  anger  in  the  face  of  the  good  shepherd  as 
he  bends  over  the  poor,  foolish,  defenceless  creature — 
only  the  light  of  a  great  compassion.  Tenderly  he  raises 
it,  and,  weary  and  footsore  as  he  is,  he  bears  it  on  his 
shoulders,  back  over  the  dark  mountains  to  the  sheltering 
fold.  Then,  in  the  greatness  of  his  joy,  he  makes  his  way 
home,  and  gathering  his  friends  and  neighbours  around 
him,  he  tells  them  the  story  of  his  weary  search  and  its 
happy  ending,  and  they  all  rejoice  together  over  the  lost 
sheep  that  has  been  found. 

We  can  all  see  the  meaning  of  this  picture.  In 
speaking  of  the  shepherd  upon  the  mountains  Jesus  was 
speaking  of  Himself.  The  parable  of  the  lost  sheep  is  a 
parable  of  His  love  for  the  lost  sinner.  When  one  of 
God's  children  falls  into  sin  and  follows  evil  and  wicked 
ways,  he  is  just  like  a  lost  sheep  wandering  away  to  its 
death  upon  the  mountains.  People  like  the  Pharisees 
may  say  of  such  a  one,  '  What  does  it  matter  ?  One  lost 
sheep,  more  or  less,  is  of  little  count.'  But  there  is  One 
who  thinks  it  matters,  and  that  is  Jesus  ;  it  matters  very 
much  to  Him.  They  tell  the  story  of  a  father  whose 
little  lad  had  been  stolen  away  by  gipsies.     *  What  will 


HK   COOU    SHKPHKKIi 


THE  LOST  COIN  265 

you  do  ? '  asked  his  friends.  He  replied,  *  As  long  as  I 
live  I  will  go  wandering  up  and  down  the  world  looking 
into  the  face  of  every  boy  I  meet,  until  I  find  my  own 
dear  son.'  Cannot  we  fancy  that  anxious  father,  with 
weary  step  and  haggard  face,  wandering  on  and  on  in 
search  of  his  missing  child,  never  giving  up  the  hope  of 
finding  him  one  day  ?  With  the  same  sorrowing  heart 
and  loving  patience  Jesus  goes  after  the  poor  lost  soul 
that  has  wandered  away  from  God,  upon  the  mountains 
of  sin.  He  cannot  rest  until  He  lias  found  His  sheep. 
And  when  He  has  found  it,  O  the  joy  that  fills  His  heart ! 
He  has  no  reproaches  to  utter,  no  harsh  treatment  to 
mete  out.  Tenderly  He  stoops  down,  and  with  His 
strong  arm  He  lays  the  lost  sheep  on  His  shoulder,  and 
bears  it  safely  home.  And  then  all  the  bells  of  the  City 
of  God  ring  out,  and  the  angels  rejoice  over  one  more 
lost  one  found. 

And  now  Jesus  speaks  again,  and  the  picture  changes. 

We  see  a  woman  busily  at  work,  broom  in  hand, 
sweeping  a  room.  She  has  lost  a  silver  coin,  one  of  a 
string  of  ten,  which  she  wears  as  an  ornament  upon  her 
forehead.  The  room,  like  most  Eastern  rooms,  is  but 
dimly  lighted,  so  that,  to  aid  her  in  her  search,  she  has 
placed  a  lighted  candle  on  the  window-sill.  The  floor 
of  the  room,  too,  is  deep  in  dust,  being  formed  of  dry 
beaten  earth,  so  that  the  coin  is  hard  to  find.  As  the 
woman  sweeps,  the  dust  rises  about  her  in  clouds,  but  she 
does  not  heed  it.  Over  and  over  the  surface  of  the  floor 
she  goes,  until  at  last  there  is  a  tinkle  and  a  flash  of 
silver  and  the  coin  is  swept  up.  Bending  down  with  a 
cry  of  joy,  the  woman  seizes  her  precious  silver  piece. 
Holding  it  aloft  in  triumph,  she  rushes  out  to  call  her 
neighbours  together,  saying,  *  Rejoice  with  me ;  for  I 
have  found  the  ])iece  wliich  I  liad  lost.' 


266  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

It  is  the  same  lesson  as  the  last,  only  presented  in 
another  form. 

God,  Jesus  teaches  us,  is  unwilling  to  lose  one  single 
soul  created  in  His  Image.  Just  as  the  woman  in  the 
parable  set  the  greatest  possible  value  on  the  coin  that 
had  dropped  from  her  forehead,  and  had  rolled  away  into 
some  dusty  corner  of  her  house,  so  God  sets  the  greatest 
possible  value  on  the  soul  that  has  slipped  out  of  His 
keeping,  and  is  lying  lost  and  useless  amid  the  dust  and 
rubbish  of  the  world.  Just  as  the  woman  and  her 
neighbours  rejoiced  at  the  finding  of  the  lost  coin,  so 
God  rejoices  when  the  lost  soul  is  found,  and  His  joy 
is  shared  by  the  holy  angels  in  Heaven. 

We  know  what  gives  the  coin  its  value ;  it  is  the 
image  of  the  king  that  is  stamped  upon  it.  It  is  just 
so  with  the  soul ;  it  is  because  it  bears  the  image  of  the 
great  King,  God  Himself,  that  its  value  is  so  great. 
A  coin  may  be  battered  and  defaced,  it  may  be  covered 
with  dust  and  grime,  but  it  never  quite  loses  its  value. 
So,  however  much  the  soul  may  be  battered  and  defaced 
by  sin,  it  is  never  worthless  in  God's  eyes.  There  is 
always  the  hope  that  its  former  beauty  and  brightness 
may  be  restored,  and  the  image  shine  out  as  at  the  first. 

And  now  once  more  Jesus  speaks,  and  once  more 
the  picture  changes. 

The  parable  of  the  lost  sheep  and  the  lost  coin  have 
shown  us  God  seeking  the  sinner ;  now  comes  the 
parable  of  the  prodigal  son,  to  show  us  the  sinner 
seeking  God  and  being  welcomed  home  by  Him. 

We  seem  to  see  a  beautiful  house,  richly  furnished, 
filled  with  troops  of  servants  and  surrounded  by  lovely 
gardens.  It  is  the  home  of  a  father  and  his  two  sons. 
There  is  nothing  remarkable  about  the  elder  son ;  he  is 
a  quiet,  steady,  young  man,  who  has  grown  to  be  his 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON  267 

father's  right  hand,  one  whom  he  has  learned  to  trust, 
and  who  has  never  given  him  a  moment's  trouble.  The 
younger  son,  however,  is  of  a  different  stamp.  Hasty, 
greedy  of  pleasure,  fond  of  taking  his  own  way,  he 
chafes  at  the  restraints  of  his  home,  and  longs  to  go  out 
into  the  world.  The  older  he  grows,  the  more  restless 
and  unhappy  he  becomes,  until  at  last  he  goes  to  his 
father  and  begs  to  be  set  free,  and  not  to  be  kept  any 
longer  at  home,  like  a  bird  in  a  gilded  cage.  '  Let  me 
have  now  what  you  intend  to  leave  me  at  your  death, 
father,'  he  says,  'and  let  me  be  off.' 

With  a  sigh  his  father  grants  his  request.  His  loving 
heart  is  pierced  by  his  boy's  ingratitude,  but  he  utters  no 
reproach.  '  He  might  have  waited  until  my  death,'  he 
thinks  to  himself,  '  but  I  will  not  stand  in  the  way  of  his 
happiness ;  let  him  go,  and  may  God  bless  the  lad  and 
bring  him  home  to  me  again  before  I  die.' 

And  so  at  the  earliest  possible  moment,  '  not  many 
days  after,'  the  younger  son  sets  off  to  seek  his  fortune, 
and  to  taste  the  pleasures  and  the  joys  of  the  great  world 
upon  which  he  had  set  his  heart.  Away  from  his  old 
home  he  speeds — as  far  as  possible — until  at  last  he 
reaches  the  far  country  of  his  dreams.  There  he  begins 
to  lead  a  life  of  pleasure  and  of  sin.  He  has  plenty  of 
gold,  and  his  gold  brings  him  plenty  of  friends — of  a  sort. 
They  drink  his  wine,  they  enjoy  his  banquets,  they  en- 
courage him  in  all  manner  of  rioting  and  excess.  And  so 
the  days  pass  by,  until  he  wakes  up  one  morning  to  find 
he  has  spent  all  his  money.  Then  his  fine,  fair-weather 
friends  all  disappear,  having  nothing  more  to  expect  from 
him,  and  he  is  left  friendless  and  alone,  '  a  stranger  in  a 
strange  land.'  And  now  misfortune  follows  upon  mis- 
fortune. A  mighty  famine  arises  in  the  land  and  he  is 
brought   to   the  very  brink  of  starvation.     Lower  and 


268  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

lower  he  sinks,  until,  in  despair,  he  is  forced  to  gain  a 
living  by  feeding  swine,  the  unclean,  abominable  animals, 
as  the  Jews  thought  them.  That  is  the  most  bitter  drop 
of  all,  in  his  cup  of  misery  and  degradation.  Weak  and 
faint,  with  starved  look  and  hollow  cheeks,  he  follows  his 
swine  through  the  forest,  his  only  shelter  at  night  the 
spreading  forest  boughs,  his  only  food  the  fallen  bean- 
pods  from  the  trees. 

At  last  he  feels  as  if  he  could  bear  no  more.  Seated 
on  some  fallen  trunk  he  buries  his  face  in  his  hands. 
And  then  somehow  he  finds  his  thoughts  straying  away 
to  the  old  home. 

'  Does  the  lamp  still  burn  in  my  father's  house 
Which  he  kindled  the  night  I  went  away  ? 

I  turned  once  beneath  the  cedar  boughs, 
And  marked  it  gleam  with  a  golden  ray ; 

Did  he  think  to  light  me  home  some  day  ? 

'  Hungry  here  with  the  crunching  swine. 

Hungry  harvest  have  I  to  reap : 
In  a  dream  I  count  my  father's  kine^ 

I  hear  the  tinkling  bells  of  his  sheep, 
I  watch  his  lambs  that  browse  and  leap.'  .  .  . 

Ah,  how  the  old  memories  pierce  his  heart !  What  a 
fool  he  has  been,  what  a  miserable,  ungrateful  vn-etch,  to 
behave  as  he  had  done  to  a  father  who  had  been  so  good 
to  him.  He  sees  his  behaviour  in  its  true  colours  at  last 
— all  his  folly  and  vileness,  all  his  ingratitude  and  sin. 
Oh,  if  he  only  dared  to  drag  himself  home  to  ask  forgive- 
ness, if  his  father  would  only  take  him  back  again,  not  as 
a  son — that  would  be  too  much  to  ask — but  as  a  hired 
servant,  and  so  rescue  him  from  his  misery  and  pain! 
Was  it  too  late?  In  a  moment  his  mind  is  made  up. 
*  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  father,  and  will  say  imto  him, 
"  Father,  I  have  sinned  against  Heaven,  and  before  thee, 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON  269 

and  am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son  :  make  me 
as  one  of  thy  hired  servants/" 

And  he  arose  and  came  to  his  father.  That  must 
have  been  hard  work.  It  is  always  hard  work  to  own 
oneself  to  have  been  in  the  wrong,  and  to  have  acted 
wickedly  and  foolishly,  and  the  prodigal  was  in  a  far 
country,  and  he  did  not  even  know  what  kind  of  welcome 
he  was  likely  to  get  at  his  father's  hands. 

As  he  trudged  wearily  along  he  would  hear  his  old 
companions  scoffing  at  him.  'Ah,  that  is  what  it  has 
come  to  at  last !  He  has  spent  his  father's  money,  and 
now  he  is  going  back  to  try  what  he  can  get  out  of  him 
again.'  And  as  he  drew  nearer  home,  others  would  see 
him  and  frown,  '  That  young  spendthrift  come  back ! 
How  dare  he  show  his  face  among  decent  people  after  the 
kind  of  life  he  has  led?'  But  still  the  poor,  weary, 
tattered  figure  creeps  on,  in  spite  of  jeers  and  scoffs  and 
frowns.  He  is  hungering  for  a  sight  of  home  and  of  his 
father's  face ;  he  cannot  rest  until  he  has  poured  out  the 
story  of  his  sin,  and  found  forgiveness. 

And  now  the  old  home  comes  in  sight,  and  there  in 
the  distance  he  sees  his  father,  but  not  before  his  father 
sees  him.  Day  after  day  these  many  weeks  past  has  that 
father  gazed  down  the  long  road  in  the  hope  of  his  son's 
return,  and  here  he  is  at  last !  Ragged,  outcast,  as  the 
prodigal  is,  his  father  knows  him,  and  instead  of  turning 
from  him,  or  even  waiting  for  him  to  draw  near,  he  runs 
to  meet  him  and  falls  on  his  neck  and  kisses  him. 

And  then  the  poor  prodigal  finds  his  voice  and  makes 
his  confession.  His  repentance  is  too  real  to  let  him 
keep  that  back.  He  does  not  say  to  himself,  '  If  my 
father  forgives  me  and  is  so  glad  to  see  me  again,  I  need 
not  humble  myself  before  him  nor  ask  his  pardon.'  The 
thought  of  his  father's  goodness  only  makes  his  own  sin 


270  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

and  ingratitude  seem  more  black  and  grievous  than 
before.  '  O  father,  father,  you  are  so  good  and  kind,  and 
I  have  been  so  selfish  and  ungrateful ;  and  now,  instead 
of  upbraiding  me  as  I  deserve,  you  have  loaded  me  with 
kindness.  What  have  I  done  to  merit  such  love — what 
did  I  do  when  I  spurned  and  made  light  of  it  ?  I  could 
bear  it  better  if  you  were  stern  and  punished  me,  but  to 
treat  me  like  this  after  all  my  bad  conduct  makes  my 
guilt  look  blacker  than  ever.  Father,  I  have  sinned 
against  Heaven,  and  in  thy  sight,  and  am  no  more 
worthy  to  be  called  thy  son.' 

But  for  answer  the  father  only  holds  his  dear  lad 
the  tighter  in  his  arms.  '  He  has  come  back  to  me,' 
he  says  over  and  over  again  to  himself,  while  his  eyes 
brim  over  with  happy  tears.  *  Bring  forth  the  best  robe,' 
he  commands  the  servants, '  and  put  it  on  him  ;  and  put  a 
ring  on  his  hand,  and  shoes  on  his  feet :  and  bring  hither 
the  fatted  calf,  and  kill  it ;  and  let  us  eat,  and  be  merry ; 
for  this  my  son  was  dead,  and  is  alive  again  :  he  was  lost, 
and  is  found.' 

And  so  we  leave  the  prodigal  in  his  father's  arms. 
He  has  sinned  deeply,  but  he  has  repented  deeply  too ; 
and  because  of  his  repentance,  the  doors  of  the  old  home 
are  flung  wide  open  to  receive  him.  Presently  we  watch 
him  enter  in,  to  the  sound  of  music. 

It  would  take  too  long  to  explain,  step  by  step,  the 
meaning  of  the  parable  (and  I  have  not  told  it  all),  but 
indeed  it  is  needless  ;  the  Heavenly  meaning  of  the 
earthly  story  is  plain  enough.  We  can  sum  it  up  in  four 
words — sin  and  suffering,  sorrow  and  forgiveness.  We 
have  the  sinner  leaving  God,  we  have  God  welcoming 
the  sinner  when  he  turns  from  his  sin,  and  freely  forgiving 
him  all  his  evil  past. 


THK   PRODIGAL  SON 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON  271 

They  tell  of  a  young  girl  who  ran  away  from  home, 
and,  like  the  prodigal,  fell  into  evil  ways.  One  night — 
it  is  a  true  story  this — something  drew  her  steps  back  to 
the  home  she  had  left.  There  was  a  light  in  the  window. 
'I  wonder  if  the  door  is  open,'  she  said  to  herself;  'it 
always  used  to  be  closed  fast  at  night.'  But  when  she 
tried  the  latch  it  lifted,  and  she  found  herself  in  the  room 
where  she  had  so  often  sat  and  listened  to  her  mother's 
pleadings.  And  she  said,  '  I  am  here,  I  won't  go  back,  I 
will  go  a  little  further.'  So  she  roused  her  mother,  and 
then,  when  they  were  talking  about  it  afterwards — for  she 
stayed  in  the  old  home — she  said  to  her  mother,  '  Mother, 
how  was  it  that  the  door  was  open  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  when  you  used  always  to  be  so  careful  to  shut  it  ? ' 

And  the  mother  said, '  Since  you  have  been  away  that 
door  has  never  been  closed  by  night  or  by  day,  because  I 
never  gave  up  hope  that  you  would  come  back.' 

Just  in  the  same  way  God  keeps  the  door  of  pardon 
ever  on  the  latch,  in  the  hope  that  one  or  other  of  His 
wandering  children  may  return. 

It  may  be  too  late  for  everything  else — it  is  never  too 
late  to  come  back  to  God. 


XVIII 

THE    PARABLES  OF   THE  UNJUST  STEWARD,  THE    RICH    MAN 
AND  THE  BEGGAR,  THE  PHARISEE  AND    THE   PUBLICAN 

JESUS    BLESSES    THE    LITTLE  CHILDREN THE  STORY 

OF     '  THE     GREAT     REFUSAL  ' THE    PARABLE    OF     THE 

LABOURERS    IN    THE    VINEYARD 

You  remember  that  in  the  parable  of  the  rich  churl,  Jesus 
taught  how  little  earthly  riches  weigh  in  comparison  with 
Heavenly  treasure,  and  how  foohsh  and  shortsighted  a 
thing  it  is  to  spend  one's  life  in  heaping  up  the  one, 
while  forgetting  to  seek  the  other.  We  now  find  Him, 
in  another  parable,  teaching  the  right  use  of  God's  gifts 
of  wealth  and  opportunity,  and  pointing  out  how  even 
earthly  treasure  may  bring  a  blessing  with  it,  if  it  is  only 
used  unselfishly. 

The  story  is  that  of  a  steward  who  played  a  wicked 
trick  upon  his  master,  and  yet  one  which  was  so  clever 
that  his  master  could  not  help  admiring  him  for  it.  This 
steward  was  a  pilferer  and  a  cheat,  and  had  received  notice 
to  quit.  Not  knowing  what  to  do  for  a  living,  he  hit 
upon  a  clever  plan.  Calling  his  master's  debtors  together, 
he  let  each  one  off  with  a  great  part  of  the  debt  he  owed, 
thinking  to  himself, '  When  I  am  turned  out  of  my  place, 
these  people  whom  I  have  befriended  will  be  grateful  for 
the  good  turn  I  have  done  them,  and  will  be  glad  to 
receive  me  into  their  houses.' 


THE  RICH  MAN  AND  THE  BEGGAR    273 

It  is  possible,  sometimes,  to  learn  useful  lessons  even 
from  worldly  and  wicked  people,  and  Jesus  bids  us  draw 
a  lesson  from  the  conduct  of  this  steward.  *Make  to 
yourselves  friends  out  of  the  mammon  of  unrighteous- 
ness,' He  says  (and  here  *  mammon '  stands  for  the  god 
of  wealth),  *  that  when  ye  fail  they  may  receive  you  into 
everlasting  habitations.'  Each  of  you  is  a  steward  like 
the  man  in  the  parable ;  all  you  have,  you  hold  in  trust 
for  God.  Put  then  the  earthly  gifts  which  God  intrusts 
to  your  care  to  good  use ;  employ  these  in  doing  kind 
actions,  in  helping  the  poor,  in  making  men  happier  and 
better,  and  leading  them  nearer  God.  In  this  way  your 
gifts  will  bring  you  friends  ;  the  earthly  treasure  will 
turn  to  Heavenly  gain.  The  loving  deed,  the  kindly, 
generous  act,  will  meet  you  again.  It  will  become  a 
friend,  to  welcome  you  at  death  into  the  shining  and 
eternal  tents  of  Heaven. 

And  then,  as  one  more  lesson  of  rebuke  to  the  selfish 
life  that  uses  all  God's  gifts  simply  for  its  own  pleasure, 
and  cares  nothing  for  the  suffering  and  the  wants  of  others, 
Jesus  spoke  the  parable  of  the  rich  man  and  the  beggar. 

There  was  once  a  rich  man  who  had  everything  to 
make  life  pleasant.  He  lived  in  a  splendid  house  '  ceiled 
with  cedar  and  painted  with  vermilion,'  and  was  clothed 
like  a  king  in  Tyrian  purple  and  fine  Egyptian  linen. 
Surrounded  by  his  friends,  he  passed  his  days  in  feasting 
and  merry-making,  drinking  out  of  goblets  of  gold  and 
eating  of  the  choicest  viands. 

At  the  rich  man's  gate  lay  a  beggar  named  Lazarus, 
sick,  half  starved,  and  covered  with  sores.  Oh,  how 
hungry  he  was  !  From  where  he  crouched,  he  could 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  lighted  rooms,  and  the  long  tables 
decked  with  flowers,  and  groaning  beneath  the  weight  of 
their  silver  dishes.     If  only  the  rich  man  would  take  pity 

s 


•274  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

on  him  and  send  him  a  little  food,  even  though  it  be 
some  of  his  scraps,  the  veriest  leavings  from  his  plate ! 
But  the  rich  man  has  no  scraps  to  waste  on  beggars. 
The  only  friends  the  poor  man  finds  are  the  pariah  dogs, 
outcast,  hunted  creatures  like  himself,  who,  in  dumb 
compassion,  lick  his  sores  as  he  lies  upon  the  ground. 
Could  there  be  a  greater  contrast  between  these  two  men 
— the  one  so  rich,  flattered,  and  envied,  and  the  other  so 
poor,  neglected,  and  miserable  ? 
Ah,  but  wait  a  moment — 

'  One  second,  and  the  angels  alter  that.' 

There  comes  a  day  when  the  beggar  dies.  And  now 
his  sufferings  are  over.  In  his  lifetime  he  served  God, 
and  now  at  his  death  God  takes  His  servant  to  Himself. 
He  who  was  once  starved,  deserted,  and  in  pain  wakes 
to  find  himself  in  the  beautiful  land  of  Paradise,  where 
'  they  shall  hunger  no  more  neither  thirst  any  more,' 
and  where  'the  inhabitant  shall  not  say,  I  am  sick.' 

On  the  very  same  day  the  rich  man  dies,  and  men 
give  his  body  a  costly  funeral.  But  his  soul,  what  be- 
comes of  that  ?  In  that  awful  place,  where  lost  souls 
dwell  in  untold  misery  and  sadness,  the  rich  man  lifts 
up  his  eyes.  Oh,  what  an  awakening  that  is !  Afar  off 
are  the  pleasant  fields  of  Paradise  which  he  can  never 
enter.  .r.,       ,  ,  , 

'  There  he  saw  the  meadows  dewy 

Spread  with  lilies  wondrous  fair, 
Thousand  thousand  were  the  colours 

Of  the  waving  flowers  there. 
*  There  were  forests  ever  blooming, 

Like  our  orchards  here  in  May ; 
There  were  gardens  never  fading, 

Which  eternally  are  gay.' 

There,  too,  is  the  beggar  he  had  so  lately  spurned 
from  his  door,  resting  in  Abraham's  bosom ;  and,  with  a 


THE  PHARISEE  AND  THE  PUBLICAN    275 

cry,  the  rich  man  stretches  out  his  arms  towards  him, 
the  one  familiar  figure  amid  all  his  strange  surroundings. 
Oh,  if  Abraham  could  have  pity  on  him  and  send  Lazarus 
to  his  aid,  to  do  something,  however  little,  to  help  him 
in  his  misery  I  But  Abraham  answers  that  it  cannot  be. 
The  rich  man  had  made  his  choice  and  must  abide  by 
it ;  he  was  only  reaping  as  he  had  sown.  Lazarus  could 
not  come  to  his  aid  ;  a  great  gulf  yawned  between 
Paradise  and  hell  which  none  could  span.  Then  the 
rich  man  begs,  if  this  be  so,  that  the  beggar  may  yet 
be  sent  on  earth  to  his  five  brethren,  who  were  living  the 
same  evil,  selfish  life  that  he  had  lived,  to  warn  them 
of  the  doom  of  the  unloving  and  the  unmerciful.  But 
Abraham  sadly  answers  '  no,'  once  more.  '  Your  brothers,' 
he  tells  him, '  have  the  Holy  Scriptures  to  warn  them.  If 
they  do  not  believe  God's  word,  they  will  not  be  turned 
even  by  the  word  of  one  who  has  risen  from  the  dead.' 
And  so  the  curtain  falls  on  this  strange,  sad  scene  of  the 
world  beyond  the  grave. 

Another  parable  which  Jesus  spoke  about  this  time 
was  meant  as  a  lesson  against  self-righteousness.  Again, 
as  in  the  last  parable,  there  are  two  men  contrasted  with 
one  another,  only  this  time  it  is  a  Pharisee  and  a  publican. 

It  is  the  hour  of  prayer.  The  figures  are  seen  climb- 
ing the  marble  steps  which  lead  to  the  Temple.  The 
one  in  front  is  clad  in  rich  silken  garments,  and  walks 
wdth  head  erect,  and  proud  and  scornful  air.  On  his 
forehead  and  left  arm  he  wears  phylacteries  of  the  very 
largest  size,  and  the  sacred  fringes  on  his  robe  are  very 
long  and  fine.  No  need  to  ask  who  he  is  ;  he  carries  the 
word  'Pharisee'  written  all  over  him.  The  man  who 
walks  behind  is  a  publican.  He  is  but  poorly  clad,  and 
wears  a  timid,  almost  frightened  air,  as  if  he  felt  he  was 
doing  a  daring  thing  in  coming  to  God's  House  at  all, 


276  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Both  men  enter  through  the  Temple  gate,  both  engage 
in  prayer.  Let  us  draw  near  and  hear  what  they  are 
saying.  The  Pharisee  begins  with  thanking  God.  That 
seems  a  good  beginning,  only  he  does  not  thank  Him  for 
what  he  rightly  owes  Him  thanks,  for  life,  for  health,  for 
pardon  of  sin,  and  all  God's  other  mercies.  He  gives 
thanks  that  he  is  such  a  good  man,  so  much  better  than 
others,  so  much  more  honest,  just,  good  living;  so  in- 
finitely superior  to  that  wretched  publican,  for  instance, 
standing  there  by  the  door.  '  I  fast  twice  a  week,'  he 
adds  proudly,  '  I  give  Thee  a  tenth  part  of  all  I  earn.' 

Meanwhile  the  publican  is  standing  *afar  off';  he 
dares  not,  like  the  Pharisee,  draw  near  to  the  Holy 
Place ;  he  feels  unworthy  even  to  tread  the  Temple 
Court.  Hidden  behind  some  marble  pillar,  with  head 
bent  in  deep  humility,  he  beats  upon  his  breast,  and  in 
sad  and  broken  tones  his  prayer  goes  up,  'God  be 
merciful  to  me  the  sinner.' 

It  was  quite  a  short  prayer,  but  it  came  straight  from 
the  poor  man's  heart,  and  God  heard  it  and  answered  it. 
The  publican  gained  his  request ;  he  left  the  Temple  par- 
doned and  absolved,  and  with  the  peace  of  God  at  his 
heart.  The  Pharisee,  on  the  other  hand,  gained  nothing 
by  his  prayer — if  we  can  call  that  a  prayer  which  was 
only  boasting.  He  wanted  nothing  from  God,  and  so  he 
gained  nothing ;  he  was  rich  in  his  own  eyes,  and  so  God 
sent  him  empty  away.  Such,  Jesus  reminds  us,  is  ever 
God's  way ;  the  proud  He  humbles  and  lays  low,  whereas 
the  humble  He  raises  up  and  brings  to  honour. 

As  Jesus  trod  the  narrow  streets  of  Jerusalem,  or 
wandered  among  the  sunny  uplands  of  fair  Galilee,  the 
mothers  would  often  bring  their  little  children  to  Him, 
in  order  that  He  might  lay  His  hand  upon  their  heads 
and  bless  them.     And  Jesus  was  always  glad  to  do  this. 


JKSUS    BLKSSINC.    LITTLE   CHILDREN 


JESUS  BLESSES  THE  CHILDREN       277 

However  sad  and  tired  His  face  might  be,  it  would  always 
brighten  up  at  the  sight  of  children.  He  liked  to  have 
them  round  Him ;  to  feel  the  touch  of  their  little  hands, 
and  look  into  the  bright  and  happy  faces  gazing  up  so 
trustfully  into  His  own.  Was  it  the  memory  of  the  little 
children  of  Bethlehem  who  laid  down  their  lives  for  Him, 
when  He  Himself  was  a  little  child,  that  made  Jesus 
look  with  such  loving  eyes  on  the  children,  and  speak  so 
tenderly  about  them,  I  wonder  ?  It  may  have  been  so. 
At  any  rate,  none  had  a  warmer  place  in  the  heart  of  Jesus 
than  the  children;  their  innocence  and  purity  came  to 
Him  like  a  breath  blowing  straight  from  the  flower-land 
of  Paradise. 

One  day,  as  He  was,  perhaps,  seated  wearily  by  the 
wayside,  some  of  the  Persean  mothers,  M^ho  had  heard 
that  the  famous  Rabbi  and  Friend  of  little  children  was 
passing  by,  brought  their  little  ones  to  Him  that  they 
might  receive  the  touch  of  His  holy  hands.  The  dis- 
ciples, however,  took  it  ill  that  Jesus  should  be  thus 
disturbed.  *  The  INIaster  does  not  want  to  be  troubled 
by  children,'  they  said  to  the  mothers  ;  '  take  them  away.' 
But  when  Jesus  knew  it  His  eyes  flashed  with  anger. 
'  Suffer  the  little  children  to  come  unto  Me,'  He  said, 
*  and  forbid  them  not,  for  of  such  is  the  Kingdom  of  God.' 
And  He  took  them  up  in  His  arms  and  blessed  them. 
O  happy  little  children  of  'the  other  side  of  Jordan,'  to 
feel  the  hand  of  Jesus  laid  upon  their  heads  and  to  hear 
those  words  of  blessing  1  To  which  of  us  has  not  the 
thought  come,  which  the  children's  hymn  puts  so  well 
into  words — 

'  I  think,  when  I  read  that  sweet  story  of  old, 
When  Jesus  was  here  among  men. 
How  He  called  little  children  like  lambs  to  His  fold, 
I  should  like  to  have  been  with  Him  then. 


278  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

'  I  wish  that  His  Hand  had  been  placed  on  my  head, 
That  His  Arm  had  been  thrown  around  me, 
And  that  I  might  have  seen  His  kind  look  when  He  said, 
''  Let  the  little  ones  come  unto  Me."  ' 

Well,  dear  child,  is  it  not  a  good  thought  to  remember 
that  Jesus  is  always  the  children's  Saviour  and  the 
children's  King  ?  There  is  still  a  place,  '  on  the  other 
side  of  Jordan,'  where  He  takes  up  the  little  children  in 
His  arms,  and  carries  them  in  His  bosom— I  mean  the 
beautiful  land  of  Paradise  that  lies  beyond  death's  river. 
Whenever  a  little  child  dies,  Jesus  is  there,  standing 
ready  to  welcome  him,  and  He  takes  His  dear  child  up 
in  His  arms  and  blesses  him,  and  never  ceases  to  watch 
over  and  protect  him  through  all  the  years  to  come. 

And  even  here  on  earth  Jesus  often  draws  very  near 
us.  When  His  people  meet  together,  it  matters  not 
whether  in  some  grand  cathedral,  or  little  whitewashed 
village  church,  to  celebrate  the  Sacrament  of  His  Love, 
He,  the  King  of  Love,  comes  to  make  His  abode  in  each 
penitent,  believing  heart.  When  a  mother  brings  her 
baby  to  be  christened,  Jesus  is  there  at  the  font  to  take 
the  little  child  in  His  loving  arms,  and  to  put  His  hands 
in  blessing  upon  it.  So  too,  when  we  kneel  at  church, 
or  by  our  bedside,  Jesus  is  near  to  bless  us.  There  is 
always  the  way  of  prayer  open,  by  which  children  may 
approach  Jesus  and  feel  His  loving  touch.  That  is  what 
the  hymn  goes  on  to  remind  us  of — 

'  Yet  still  to  His  footstool  in  prayer  I  may  go 
And  ask  for  a  share  of  His  love, 
And  if  I  thus  earnestly  seek  Him  below 
I  shall  see  Him  and  hear  Him  above, 

'In  that  beautiful  place  He  has  gone  to  prepare 
For  all  who  are  washed  and  forgiven  ; 
And  many  dear  children  are  gathering  there, 
"  For  of  such  is  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven."  ' 


THE  YOUNG  RULER  279 

While  in  Pera^a,  Jesus  received  a  message  from  Martha 
and  Mary,  telling  Him  that  Lazarus,  whom  He  loved, 
was  sick.  They  did  not  ask  Him  to  come  to  heal  their 
brother ;  they  seemed  to  have  said  to  themselves,  *  The 
Master  loves  Lazarus  so  dearly  that  when  He  hears  he  is 
ill.  He  is  sure  to  come  at  once  without  any  asking.'  But 
Jesus  did  not  come  at  once;  after  He  had  received  the 
message  He  stayed  two  whole  days  in  the  place  where 
the  messenger  met  Him.  It  was  His  will  that  Lazarus 
should  die,  in  order  that  by  raising  him  to  life  again 
God  might  be  glorified,  and  the  hearts  of  the  sorrow^ing 
sisters  be  filled  in  the  end  with  a  greater  joy. 

After  two  days  He  told  His  disciples  that  Lazarus  was 
asleep,  and  that  He  was  going  to  awaken  him  out  of  sleep, 
using  the  same  tender  word  for  death  that  He  had  used 
at  the  bedside  of  the  little  daughter  of  Jairus.  His  dis- 
ciples did  not  like  the  idea  of  Jesus'  going  back  to  Judsea. 
They  remembered  how  nearly  He  had  been  stoned  in  the 
Temple,  and  were  fearful  lest  some  mischief  should  befall 
Him.  But  Jesus  told  them  that  the  sun  of  His  earthly 
life  had  not  yet  begun  to  set.  God  had  given  Him  a 
certain  work  to  do,  and  a  certain  time  to  do  it  in ;  until 
His  work  was  done  no  evil  could  happen  to  Him.  So 
the  little  company  turned  their  faces  towards  Bethany. 

Just  as  they  were  starting,  a  young  man  came  running 
towards  them.  His  rich  robes  showed  him  to  be  a  person 
of  some  importance — as  indeed  he  was,  for  he  w^as  a  ruler 
of  the  synagogue.  Coming  to  Jesus,  he  knelt  reverently 
at  His  feet,  and  put  the  question  to  Him  in  breathless, 
anxious  tones :  '  Good  Master,  what  shall  I  do  that  I 
may  inherit  eternal  life?'  In  answer,  Jesus  told  him 
that  the  way  to  eternal  life  lay  through  the  gate  of  God's 
commandments.  He  did  not  mean,  of  course,  that  the 
young  ruler  could   earn  eternal  life  by  any  good  deeds 


280  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

that  he  might  do.  He  meant  that  it  must  be  his  aim  to 
carry  out  God's  will  as  far  as  God  had  revealed  it  to  him, 
for  that  would  be  to  put  himself  in  the  way  of  being 
taught  the  higher  teaching  which  Jesus  had  come  to 
bring  him  and  all  the  world. 

A  shadow  fell  upon  the  young  man's  face  as  Jesus 
spoke;  he  thought  that  the  Great  Rabbi  would  have 
given  him  advice  of  a  less  familiar  kind,  that  He  would 
have  pointed  out  some  new  and  splendid  way  of  gaining 
Heaven;  but  the  commandments,  why,  he  had  kept 
them  from  his  youth  up !  And  so  no  doubt  he  had — in 
the  letter;  only,  as  Jesus  had  already  taught  in  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount,  it  is  not  enough  to  keep  the  com- 
mandments in  the  letter,  we  must  keep  them  in  the 
spirit  as  well.  God's  commands  reach  beyond  the  out- 
ward act ;  they  concern  the  very  thoughts  of  the  heart. 

And  yet,  with  all  his  ignorance  of  what  God  really 
required  of  him,  there  was  something  so  earnest  and 
sincere  about  the  young  ruler,  there  was  so  much  that 
was  good  and  noble  in  his  character,  that  Jesus,  beholding 
him,  loved  him.  Would  he  have  the  courage  to  come 
over  altogether  to  the  side  of  God  ?  Jesus  determined 
to  test  him,  '  Yet  lackest  thou  one  thing,'  He  answered, 
gazing  at  him  with  steadfast  look :  '  sell  all  that  thou 
hast,  and  distribute  unto  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have 
treasure  in  Heaven :  and  come,  follow  INIe.' 

Here  was  the  young  ruler's  chance.  Oh,  how  eagerly 
must  the  angels  of  God  have  watched  the  struggle  in  his 
heart !  Would  he  break  away  from  the  world  and  seek 
the  true  riches  ?  Out  of  his  gold  would  he  make  his 
crown  ?  Alas,  the  test  proves  too  severe  I  If  it  had  only 
been  something  easier,  something  a  little  less  impossible ; 
but  to  give  up  everything  to  follow  Jesus — all  his  money* 
his  friends,  his  position — it  was  too  great  a  sacrifice  to 


THE  GREAT  REFUSAL  281 

think  of.  With  bowed  head  and  sorrowful  countenance 
the  young  man  turns  and  goes  away. 

Have  you  ever  stood  at  night  upon  the  seashore  when 
the  moon  has  lighted  her  lamp  of  pearl,  and  flung  a  path- 
way of  glory  far  over  the  quiet  waters  ?  If  so,  perhaps  you 
have  seen  a  passing  ship  glide  out  of  the  darkness,  and 
for  an  instant  stand  out  as  distinctly  before  your  eyes  as 
though  etched  in  black  ink  against  a  background  of  pure 
gold.  The  next  moment  it  was  gone,  swallowed  up  by 
the  darkness  again.  In  some  such  fashion  the  young  ruler 
comes  before  us  in  the  story  of  *  the  great  refusal.'  For  a 
moment  he  comes  under  the  light  of  Jesus'  presence,  and 
we  see  his  face  bright  with  love  and  longing ;  then  he  passes 
away  into  the  darkness  of  separation  from  His  Saviour, 
and  we  see  him  no  more.  Very  sadly  did  Jesus  watch 
the  figure  of  the  young  man,  who  had  run  so  eagerly 
towards  him,  now  slowly  disappearing  into  the  distance. 
Turning  to  His  disciples  He  once  again  pointed  out  the 
barrier  that  piled-up  gold  too  often  raises  in  the  path  of 
those  who  fain  would  climb  the  Heavenly  way.  *  It  is 
easier,'  He  said, '  for  a  camel  to  go  through  a  needle's  eye, 
than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  Kingdom  of  God.' 

Perhaps  by  the  needle's  eye  Jesus  meant  the  little 
postern  gate  which  in  the  East  adjoins  the  main  entrance 
into  a  walled  town.  It  would  be  no  easy  task  for  a 
camel,  with  a  great  pack  strapped  upon  his  back,  to  pass 
through  a  little  gate  such  as  this. 

So,  Jesus  seems  to  say,  it  is  no  easy  task  for  a  man  to 
pass  through  the  gate  of  the  Kingdom  of  God,  burdened 
and  staggering  beneath  the  weight  of  his  money-bags. 
The  gate  of  the  Kingdom  is  low  and  narrow^  and  a  man's 
riches  are  like  the  camel's  pack,  very  likely  to  hinder  and 
harass  him,  and  in  the  end  only  too  apt  to  block  up  his 
approach  to  God  altogether. 


282  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

St.  Peter  meanwhile,  not  without  some  little  touch  of 
pride,  had  been  contrasting  his  own  case  with  that  of  the 
young  ruler.  At  the  call  of  Jesus,  neither  he  nor  his 
fellow-disciples  had  hesitated  a  moment ;  they  had  given 
up  everything  to  follow  Christ.  What  was  to  be  their 
reward,  he  wondered.  '  Behold,'  he  said  to  Jesus,  '  we  have 
forsaken  all  and  followed  Thee ;  what  shall  we  have  there- 
fore ? '  I  think  this  question  of  St.  Peter  must  have  made 
Jesus  sorry  ;  He  did  not  want  people  to  follow  Him  with 
the  idea  of  getting  something  out  of  His  service.  In 
reply,  He  told  St.  Peter  of  the  reward  God  had  in  store 
for  him  and  the  others :  hereafter  they  should  share  His 
glory,  and,  seated  on  twelve  thrones,  should  judge  the 
twelve  tribes  of  the  house  of  Israel.  At  the  same 
time  to  teach  him  that  God's  rewards  are  not  earned  or 
deserved,  but  are  freely  given  to  whom  He  wills  and  as 
He  wills,  He  spoke  the  parable  of  the  labourers  in  the 
vineyard. 

This  is  the  picture.  It  is,  let  us  imagine,  '  the  wine 
month,'  and  everywhere  preparations  are  being  made  for 
the  ingathering  of  the  grapes.  The  vine  leaves  are  begin- 
ning to  turn  colour,  and  the  purple  clusters  they  conceal 
are  now  fully  ripe.  Early  one  morning  the  owner  of  a 
vineyard  starts  out  for  the  village  market-place  to  hire 
labourers  to  cut  his  grapes.  Having  collected  a  band  of 
these  together,  he  sends  them  into  his  vineyard,  promising 
to  pay  them  each  at  the  rate  of  one  silver  denarius,  a  coin 
the  Bible  calls  a  penny,  and  which  in  Jesus'  day  formed 
the  ordinary  daily  wage  of  a  labourer. 

A  little  later  on,  at  nine  o'clock,  again  at  twelve,  then 
at  three,  and  as  late  even  as  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
the  owner  visits  the  market-place,  and  finding  at  each  of 
these  times  men  out  of  work  standing  idly  by,  he  engages 
them  to  work  in  his  vineyard  as  w^ell.     With  these  men. 


THE  LABOURERS  IN  THE  V  INEYARD    283 

however,  he  makes  no  bargain,  '  I  will  give  you  what 
is  right,'  he  says,  and  with  this  arrangement  they  are 
content. 

By  and  by  the  sun  goes  down,  and,  their  day's  work 
being  done,  the  master  bids  his  steward  call  his  labourers 
to  receive  their  wages. 

Those  who  came  last  are  paid  first ;  they  get  a  silver 
denarius.  '  Oh,'  think  the  men  who  were  first  engaged, 
'  if  those  who  have  worked  so  little  get  so  much,  we  who 
have  worked  hard  all  day  will  be  sure  to  get  much  more ! ' 
But,  when  their  turn  comes,  they  too  receive,  each  of 
them,  a  silver  denarius. 

They  are  inclined  to  grumble  at  this  at  first,  as  being 
unfair,  but  the  owner  of  the  vineyard  points  out  that  this 
was  the  exact  sum  he  had  agreed  to  give  them.  They 
really  had  no  grievance;  his  money  was  his  own,  and  if 
he  chose  to  give  to  the  other  labourers  the  same  wage  as 
he  gave  to  them,  he  was  at  perfect  liberty  to  do  so.  '  So 
the  last,'  Jesus  adds, '  shall  be  first,  and  the  first  last :  for 
many  be  called,  but  few  chosen.' 

God,  so  I  read  the  parable,  is  ever  calling  labourers 
out  of  the  market-place  of  the  world  to  work  for  Him  in 
the  vineyard  of  His  Church.  All  who  work  for  Him  will 
get  their  reward  ;  no  one  will  be  passed  over.  Only  God 
gives  as  He  sees  fit ;  He  alone  is  the  proper  judge  of 
work  and  its  reward.  Moreover,  there  is  a  right  way  and 
a  wrong  way  of  taking  service  with  Him.  The  wrong 
way  is  to  work  because  of  what  we  hope  to  get  by  our 
working ;  the  right  way  is  to  work  for  God's  sake  and  for 
the  sake  of  the  work  itself. 

No  work  of  whatsoever  sort  that  is  done  for  God  is 
ever  forgotten  by  Him,  but  it  does  not  follow  that  the 
work  which  seems  to  deserve  most  at  His  hands  will 
always  receive  most  at  the  end.     The  loving-hearted,  un- 


284  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

selfish  labourer  in  God's  vineyard,  who  only  thinks  how 
best  he  may  please  his  Master  and  help  his  fellows,  will 
be  placed  above  him  whose  work,  however  grand  and 
successful,  is  tainted,  if  ever  so  little,  with  selfishness. 
Let  me  learn  then  to  do  whatever  work  God  gives  me 
to  do  in  the  right  spirit,  to  do  it  out  of  love  for  Him  and 
for  those  around  me.  Do  not  let  me  ask,  '  What  reward 
shall  I  have  from  God  ? '  but  rather, '  What  is  the  most  I 
can  do  for  Him  ? '  That  is  the  spirit  in  which  the  holy 
angels  work,  and  gaining  it  I  shall  gain  the  joy  of  learn- 
ing to  do  God's  will  on  earth  even  as  it  is  done  in 
Heaven. 


XIX 

HOW  JESUS  RAISED  LAZARUS  FROM  THE  DEAD — CAIAPHAS 
AND  HIS  PROPHECY — JESUS  FORETELLS  HIS  PASSION — 
THE    BOON    SALOME    CRAVED    FOR    HER   TWO    SONS 

Jesus  was  at  the  little  village  Bethabara,  beyond  the 
Jordan,  when  the  messenger  from  Martha  and  Mary 
met  Him.  To  get  to  the  home  of  His  friends  He  would 
have  to  travel  some  twenty  miles.  Thus,  if  He  started 
in  the  cool  of  the  morning,  as  He  would  probably  do, 
He  would  reach  the  heights  of  Bethany  well  before  the 
shades  of  evening  had  begun  to  gather. 

Even  before  entering  the  village,  the  news  met  Him 
that  Lazarus  was  dead,  and  had  been  carried  to  the 
grave  four  days  before.  In  the  East,  burial  usually  took 
place  within  a  few  hours  after  death  ;  and  so  it  seems 
that  Lazarus  had  died  the  very  day  when  the  messenger 
was  sent  to  tell  Jesus  of  his  illness.  It  was  in  the  very 
midst  of  the  accustomed  seven  days  of  mourning  for  the 
dead  that  Jesus  arrived.  Secretly  and  quietly  as  He 
came,  the  tidings  of  His  coming  reached  IMartha  as  she 
sat  weeping  in  her  darkened,  desolate  home.  The  news 
was  like  a  ray  of  light  from  Heaven.  Rising  to  her  feet, 
without  even  waiting  to  tell  her  sister,  she  at  once  started 
out  to  meet  her  Friend.  Her  heart  seemed  breaking 
with  its  load  of  sorrow.  Oh,  why  had  not  Jesus  come 
before  ?     They  had  been  looking  for  Him  so  long ;  they 


286  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

had  wanted  Him  so  badly.  Poor,  pale-faced,  broken- 
hearted ^lartha,  how  changed  she  seems  from  the  busy, 
cheerful  housewife  who  used  so  eagerly  to  welcome 
Jesus  to  her  home  !  '  Lord,'  are  her  first  words  as  she 
sees  Jesus,  '  if  Thou  hadst  been  here,  my  brother  had  not 
died.'  How  sure  INIartha  was  of  that!  Jesus  was  so 
kind  and  pitiful,  as  well  as  so  powerful  and  so  strong. 
He  would  never  have  allowed  His  friend  to  die,  if  only 
He  had  come  back  in  time.  Now  it  was  too  late — O 
the  bitterness  of  the  thought !  And  yet,  as  she  meets  the 
compassionate  gaze  that  Jesus  turns  upon  her,  a  faint 
hope  springs  up  in  her  heart  that  He  would  yet  do 
something  to  roll  away  the  burden  of  her  misery.  And 
so  she  adds,  '  but  I  know  that  even  now  whatsoever  Thou 
wilt  ask  of  God,  God  will  give  it  Thee.' 

And  then  Jesus  speaks.  '  Thy  brother  shall  rise 
again,'  He  says.  Ah,  but  that  was  not  the  comfort 
Martha  wanted  !  She  thought  Jesus  was  speaking  of  the 
day  of  Resurrection,  and  that  seemed  such  a  long  way 
off.  She  wanted  her  brother  back  now ;  she  wanted 
so  much  to  see  his  dear  face  again,  to  touch  his  hand, 
to  listen  to  his  voice,  to  have  the  joy  of  waiting  upon 
him  once  more.  Sadly  she  answers,  '  I  know  that  he 
shall  rise  again  in  the  resurrection  at  the  last  day. '  And 
then,  once  more,  through  the  quiet  evening  air,  the  voice 
of  Jesus  sounds,  and  Martha  hears  those  words  whose 
music  has  carried  hope  and  comfort  to  many  a  mourning, 
sorrow-laden  soul  all  down  the  ages  until  to-day.  '  I  am 
the  Resurrection  and  the  Life  ;  he  that  believeth  in  Me, 
though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live  :  and  whosoever 
liveth  and  believeth  in  Me  shall  never  die.'  '  Believest 
thou  this  ? '  He  adds,  and  JNIartha  answers,  '  Yea,  Lord  : 
I  believe  that  Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God, 
which  should  come  into  the  world.' 


THE  RAISING  OF  LAZARUS  287 

With  these  words,  and  with  a  new  wild  hope  beating 
in  her  heart,  Martha  hastens  home  to  lier  sister.  Find- 
ing JSIary  sitting  weeping  silently  witli  bowed  head 
among  her  friends,  she  whispers  in  her  ear,  '  The  Master 
is  come,  and  calleth  for  thee.'  In  a  moment  IMary  has 
risen  to  her  feet.  Hastily  veiling  herself  she  follows 
Martha,  and  together  the  sisters  make  their  way  to  the 
place  where  Jesus  is  awaiting  them. 

The  grave  of  Lazarus  lay  in  the  direction  towards 
which  they  were  hastening,  and  Mary's  friends,  who  had 
come  to  mingle  their  tears  with  hers,  seeing  her  go  out, 
followed  her,  thinking  she  was  going  to  the  grave 
to  weep  there.  But  it  was  not  her  dead  brother's  grave 
that  Mary  wished  to  see,  it  was  the  living  Jesus.  Pre- 
sently she  finds  herself  in  His  presence,  and  falling  at 
His  feet  she  sobs  out,  '  Lord,  if  Thou  hadst  been  here,  my 
brother  had  not  died.'  They  were  the  very  same  words 
that  Martha  had  used.  Over  and  over  again,  when  alone 
together,  the  sisters  had  repeated  these  words,  like  some 
mournful  refrain — '  If  only  Jesus  had  been  here,  Lazarus 
would  never  have  been  taken  from  us.' 

Very  sad  and  pitiful  was  the  look  that  Jesus  bent  upon 
weeping  ^lary.  The  sight  of  her  suffering,  the  thought 
of  all  the  misery  and  ruin  sin  had  brought  into  the  world, 
perhaps  the  knowledge  that  the  miracle  He  was  about  to 
work,  instead  of  softening,  would  only  harden  the  hearts 
of  His  enemies  towards  Him,  all  affected  Him  very 
deeply.  He  groaned  in  spirit ;  a  shudder  passed  over 
Him.  '  Where  have  ye  laid  him  ? '  He  asked.  '  Lord, 
come  and  see,'  they  said.     Jesus  wept. 

The  grave  of  Lazarus  lay  by  the  wayside.  It  was  a 
chamber  cut  in  the  limestone  rock,  surrounded  by 
flowering  shrubs,  and  festooned  by  the  creeping  tendrils 
of  the  vine.     A  flight  of  steps  led  down  into  it,  and  its 


288  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

entrance  was  closed  by  a  heavy  circular  stone,  which 
moved  along  a  groove.  As  Jesus,  with  bowed  head, 
walked  slowly  towards  the  grave,  the  friends  of  Martha 
and  Mary  could  not  help  noticing  the  tears  in  His  eyes, 
and  the  look  of  suffering  on  His  face.  '  See  how  much 
He  loved  him,'  they  whispered  to  one  another ;  and  some 
said,  just  as  Martha  and  Mary  had  said,  *  Ah,  if  Jesus  had 
only  come  before !  Surely  the  great  Healer,  who  was 
able  to  give  sight  to  a  man  born  blind,  would  have  had 
the  power  to  ward  off  death  from  a  friend  He  loved 
so  dearly.' 

At  length  the  limestone  cave  is  reached,  in  which  the 
body  of  the  dead  man  lies ;  and  Jesus  stands  before  the 
entrance.  What  is  He  about  to  do  ?  What  is  going  to 
happen?  All  stand  looking  at  one  another,  waiting, 
wondering.  Suddenly  Jesus  points  to  the  stone.  *  Roll 
it  away,'  He  says.  '  Oh  no,  not  that ! '  We  seem  to  see 
Martha  in  her  agony,  touching  with  beseeching  gesture 
the  border  of  Jesus  garment.  But  Jesus  only  looks 
at  her  with  steady,  loving  gaze,  and  bids  her  not  be 
afraid.  *  Said  I  not  unto  thee,  that,  if  thou  wouldest 
believe,  thou  shouldest  see  the  glory  of  God  ? '  Then 
tlie  strong  arms  of  the  disciples  roll  the  stone  along  its 
narrow  groove,  and  the  dark  mouth  of  the  cave  is 
disclosed.  It  is  an  awful  thrilling  moment.  All  hold 
their  breath,  and  gaze  fearfully  into  the  gloomy  recesses 
of  the  house  of  death.  At  last  the  silence  is  broken  by 
the  voice  of  Jesus.  His  eyes  are  lifted  to  Heaven ;  His 
lips  are  moving ;  He  is  thanking  His  Heavenly  Father 
for  having  heard  His  prayer.  Another  moment,  and 
with  a  gesture  of  command,  and  the  voice  of  a  mighty 
king,  He  cries,  '  Lazarus,  come  forth,'  and  at  His  words 
the  dead  man  stirs  upon  the  rocky  ledge  where  he  lies ; 
he  rises  to  his  feet,  he  comes  slowly  forward,  swathed  in 


THE  RAISING  OF  LAZARUS  289 

the  linen  clothes  in  which  he  had  been  laid  to  rest. 
Then  Jesus  speaks  again,  '  Loose  him,  and  let  him  go ' ; 
and,  freed  from  his  grave-clothes,  the  man  who  was 
dead  steps  out  once  more  into  the  world  of  living  men, 
and  Jesus  gives  him  back  to  his  sisters,  who  are  weeping 
now  for  very  joy  and  gladness  of  heart. 

Such  was  the  wondrous  miracle  by  which  the  I^ord 
of  Life  once  more  showed  His  power  over  death.  An 
old  legend  tells  us  that  Lazarus  lived  for  thirty  years 
after  he  had  been  raised  from  the  dead.  The  Bible, 
however,  says  little  or  nothing  about  his  after  life.  Did 
he  ever  speak  of  the  wonderful  country  he  had  visited, 
whose  confines  lie  beyond  the  grave  and  gate  of  death  ? 
Was  he  glad  to  return  once  more  to  the  shelter  of  the 
quiet  home  of  Bethany,  or  did  his  eyes  for  ever  afterwards 
turn  wistfully  back  to  that  better  and  more  beautiful 
home  from  which  the  voice  of  Jesus  had  called  him  for  a 
while  ?     We  do  not  know. 

'  Where  wert  thou,  brother,  those  four  days .'' 
There  lives  no  record  of  reply, 
Which  telling  what  it  is  to  die, 
Had  surely  added  praise  to  praise. 

'  From  every  house  the  neighbours  met. 

The  streets  were  filled  with  joyful  sound, 
A  solemn  silence  even  crowned, 
The  purple  brows  of  Olivet. 

'  Behold  a  man  raised  up  by  Christ ! 
The  rest  remaineth  unrevealed  ; 
He  told  it  not ;  or  something  sealed 
The  lips  of  that  Evangelist.' 

So  wonderful  a  miracle  as  that  of  the  raising  to  life 
of  a  man  who  had  been  four  days  dead,  could  not  but 
make  a  deep  impression  on  men's  minds.     The  news  ran 

T 


290  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

like  wildfire  through  the  village,  and  spread  to  Jerusalem. 
Presently  the  great  council  of  the  Jews,  known  as  the 
Sanhedrim,  was  gathered  together  to  consult  as  to  what 
was  to  be  done  in  the  face  of  the  growing  excitement  of 
the  people.  It  was  plain  that  Jesus  was  becoming  a 
dangerous  character;  a  few  more  such  miracles,  and 
who  could  foretell  what  would  happen  ?  The  nation 
would  be  won  over  to  believe  on  Him ;  it  would  rise 
and  crown  Him  King ;  there  would  be  fighting  and  re- 
bellion ;  and  then  the  Roman  armies  would  be  set  in 
motion,  the  country  and  nation  would  be  crushed,  and 
their  own  few  remaining  privileges  would  be  taken  away. 
So  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees  argued,  with  perplexed 
and  scowling  faces,  and  hearts  full  of  bitter  anger.  Yet 
how  to  prevent  all  this  from  taking  place?  As  they 
wrangle  and  dispute,  suddenly  a  harsh,  sneering  voice 
makes  itself  heard  above  all  the  rest.  It  is  the  voice 
of  Caiaphas  the  high  priest.  '  Ye  know  nothing  at  all,' 
he  says,  in  tones  of  thinly  veiled  contempt,  '  nor  consider 
that  it  is  expedient  for  us,  that  one  man  should  die  for  the 
people,  and  that  the  whole  nation  perish  not.'  Death ! 
yes,  that  was  the  one  way  out  of  the  difficulty !  As 
Caiaphas  spoke  every  one  saw  that  it  was  so.  Jesus  must 
die,  His  death  was  necessary  in  the  interests  of  the 
people,  the  country,  and  themselves.  Caiaphas  did  not 
dream  what  a  deep  truth  he  was  uttering ;  he  spoke  out 
of  the  depths  of  his  cruel,  evil  heart,  but  it  was  God's 
thought  he  was  voicing  for  all  that.  It  was  indeed  neces- 
sary that  Jesus  should  die  for  the  people,  for  only  through 
His  death  could  they  escape  the  punishment  of  their  sins, 
and  be  brought  back  to  God.  And  not  for  the  people  of 
the  Jews  alone,  was  His  death  necessary,  but  for  all  man- 
kind. It  was  God's  plan  that  through  the  outstretched 
arms  of  His  Son  upon  the  Cross  the  whole  world  should 


THE  JOURNEY  TO  JERUSALEM         291 

be  redeemed,  and  Jew  and  Gentile  be  gathered  together 
into  one. 

Jesus  knew  that  the  ruhng  classes  had  decided  upon 
His  death ;  but,  though  His  time  to  die  was  now 
drawing  very  near,  it  had  not  yet  actually  come.  Quietly 
therefore  He  withdrew  from  Rethany,  and  sought  shelter 
in  the  little  town  of  Ephraim,  which  lay  in  the  wild  hill 
country  to  the  north  of  Judeea.  There  He  remained 
with  His  disciples  for  a  while,  teaching  them  the  holy 
lessons  He  would  have  them  learn,  and  preparing  Him- 
self for  His  last  great  journey  along  the  Way  of  Sorrows 
into  the  valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death. 

It  was  now  spring-time ;  the  forest  trees  were  begin- 
ning to  clothe  themselves  in  their  dress  of  tender  green, 
and  the  edges  of  the  fields  were  bright  with  lovely 
flowers,  whose  colours,  blue,  white,  purple,  and  scarlet 
vied  with  the  splendid  colours  of  the  Temple  Veil. 
Everywhere  along  the  roads  the  caravans  began  to  pass 
on  their  way  to  Jerusalem  to  keep  the  Passover. 

Presently  Jesus  Himself  and  His  disciples  left  the 
friendly  walls  of  the  little  white  town  on  the  hill,  and 
joined  the  stream  of  pilgrims  to  the  Holy  City.  Jesus 
was  going  to  His  death  ;  He  knew  it  well.  There  at  His 
journey's  end,  in  black  outline  against  the  sky,  the  Cross 
spread  its  arms,  and  seemed  to  threaten  Him ;  but  He 
did  not  shrink  or  falter.  He  was  going  to  give  His  life 
for  the  world ;  He  was  going  to  win  man  back  to  God ; 
that  was  the  thought  which  made  Him  set  His  face  stead- 
fastly to  go  up  to  Jerusalem,  and  to  endure,  with  un- 
daunted heart,  the  thought  of  the  coming  suffering  and 
the  shame.  Onward  with  the  step  and  bearing  of  a  King 
He  went,  while  His  disciples  as  they  followed  Him 
wondered,  and  were  afraid. 

Did   Jesus    understand   the  dangers  that  threatened 


292  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Him  ?  Did  He  know  the  malice  and  strength  of  His 
enemies,  and  the  number  of  their  plots  ?  Surely  He 
must  know,  and  yet — how  unafraid  He  was ;  there  was 
a  look  almost  of  triumph  on  His  face.  What  did  it 
all  mean  ? 

Jesus  noticed  His  disciples'  perplexity.  Calling  them 
together.  He  began  to  tell  them  in  plain  words  all  that 
was  about  to  happen  to  Him.  Twice  before  He  had 
spoken  to  them  of  His  coming  sufferings  and  death  ;  once 
at  Csesarea  Philippi,  and  once  at  the  descent  of  snowy 
Hermon,  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration.  Now  again  He 
told  them  the  strange  sad  story  of  His  Passion,  only  this 
time  with  even  greater  plainness  than  before.  He  spoke 
of  His  betrayal ;  He  told  them  how  He  should  be  brought 
to  judgement,  and  condemned  to  death ;  how  He  should 
be  handed  over  to  the  Roman  power,  to  be  mocked  and 
scourged,  and  nailed  to  the  cross  of  shame ;  and  how  on 
the  third  day  He  should  rise  again.  But  His  disciples 
did  not  yet  understand.  Jesus'  words  seemed  only  still 
further  to  bewilder  them.  Suffering,  mockery,  the  Cross  I 
what  had  these  things  to  do  with  the  King  Messiah? 
Surely  He  must  in  the  end  triumph  over  His  enemies, 
and  set  up  the  throne  which  should  never  pass  away. 
The  more  they  thought  over  Jesus'  words,  the  less  they 
understood  them.  '  This  saying  was  hid  from  them, 
neither  knew  they  the  things  which  were  spoken.' 

Soon  after,  an  incident  occurred  which  showed  how 
difficult  the  disciples  found  it  to  rid  their  minds  of 
their  favourite  dream  of  an  earthly  kingdom  and  its 
rewards.  Among  the  company  of  those  who  followed 
Jesus  in  the  way  was  Salome,  the  mother  of  James  and 
John.  Seizing  her  chance  while  Jesus  was  alone,  she 
came  to  Him,  in  company  with  the  two  apostles,  and, 
kneeling  at  His  feet,  asked  a  favour  at  His  hands.     Jesus 


SALOME  AND  HER  SONS  293 

asked  her  what  it  was  she  wanted,  and  Salome  answered 
a  place  of  honour  for  her  two  sons  in  the  kingdom  He 
was  about  to  set  up.  Might  one  of  them  sit  on  the  right 
hand,  and  the  other  on  the  left,  upon  the  first  step  of 
His  throne  at  Jerusalem,  as  His  chief  officers  ?  To  their 
mother's  prayer  St.  James  and  St.  John  added  their 
entreaties  as  well.  They  wanted  so  much  to  be  Jesus' 
right  hand  men,  the  nearest  to  their  Master,  the  most 
trusted  of  all  His  ministers  of  state.  But  Jesus  answered 
that  they  did  not  know  what  they  were  asking.  Their 
tiioughts  were  full  of  jewelled  crowns,  and  thrones  of 
ivory  and  gold ;  they  did  not  understand  that  His  only 
crown  should  be  the  thorn-wreath,  and  that  His  throne 
should  be  made  of  the  hard  wood  of  the  Cross  ;  they  did 
not  know  that  they  were  asking  to  fill  the  places  of  the 
two  robbers  who  were  afterwards  to  be  crucified  with 
Him.  Could  they  drink  of  the  chalice  He  was  about  to 
drink  of.  He  asked  them,  and  be  baptized  with  the 
baptism  that  He  was  baptized  with  ?  It  was  the  chalice 
of  shame  and  reproach  that  Jesus  meant,  it  was  the 
baptism  in  the  deep  and  bitter  waters  of  suffering  and  of 
death  of  which  He  was  speaking.  St.  James  and  St.  John 
did  not  know  this,  and  yet  they  felt  that  Jesus  was 
somehow  putting  them  to  the  test,  that  He  was  asking 
them  if  they  were  strong  enough  to  bear  something  hard 
for  His  sake;  and  so  they  answered  bravely,  'We  are 
able.'  And  Jesus  answered,  'Ye  shall  indeed  drink  of 
the  cup  that  I  drink  of;  and  with  the  baptism  that  I  am 
baptized  withal  shall  ye  be  baptized ;  but  to  sit  on  my 
right  hand  and  on  my  left  hand  is  not  mine  to  give,  but 
to  them  for  whom  it  is  prepared  of  my  Father.'  These 
words  of  Jesus  afterwards  came  true.  Both  St.  James 
and  St.  .John  in  after  years  were  strengthened  by  God's 
Holy  Spirit  to  drink  of  His  cup  and  to  pass  through  the 


294  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

deep  waters  of  His  baptism.  St.  James,  the  first  of  the 
apostles  to  lay  down  his  life  for  his  Master,  was  slain  by 
the  sword ;  St,  John,  though  he  was  not  called  upon,  like 
his  brother,  to  pass  through  the  red  sea  of  martyrdom,  yet 
tasted  the  bitterness  of  loneliness  and  exile,  being  made 
a  '  companion  in  tribulation '  in  the  rocky  isle  of  Patmos, 
'  for  the  word  of  God,  and  for  the  testimony  of  Jesus 
Christ; 

By  and  by  a  report  of  what  James  and  John  had  asked 
of  Jesus  came  to  the  ears  of  the  disciples,  and  they  were 
very  angry.  It  seemed  to  them  that  Salome  and  her 
sons  had  been  trying  to  get  the  better  of  them  in  an 
unfair  and  underhand  way.  Jesus,  to  teach  them  to  think 
less  about  rewards  for  themselves,  and  more  about  the 
claims  of  others,  called  the  twelve  together,  and  told 
them  not  to  follow  the  example  of  the  Gentile  heathen, 
who  cared  very  much  about  ruling,  but  very  little  about 
the  happiness  of  those  whom  they  ruled.  Let  them 
rather  seek  to  serve  others  by  love.  If  they  would  rise 
very  high,  let  them  go  down  very  low,  even  as  He  Him- 
self had  done.  For  even  '  the  Son  of  Man  came  not  to 
be  ministered  unto  but  to  minister,  and  to  give  His  life  a 
ransom  for  many.'  '  The  real  heights  in  human  life,'  it 
has  been  said,  '  are  the  heights  of  self-forgetfulness  and 
service.  We  are  to  use  all  our  powers  in  doing  good  to 
others  in  Christ's  name.  That  is  what  He  did  with  His 
blessed  life,  and  we  are  to  follow  in  His  steps.' 


XX 


THE  BLIND  BEGGAR  OF  JERICHO — HOW  ZACCHJEVS  CLIMBED 
INTO  A  TREE  TO  SEE  JESUS — THE  PARABLE  OF  THE 
NOBLEMAN  AND  THE  PIECES  OF  MONEY — INIARY  AND 
HER   BOX    OF    SPIKENARD 

On  His  way  up  to  Jerusalem  Jesus  passed  through  Jericho, 
'the  city  of  palms.'  The  Jericho  of  to-day,  travellers  tell 
us,  is  a  mere  cluster  of  miserable  Arab  huts,  but  in  Jesus' 
day  it  was  a  famous  trading  centre,  and  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  towns  in  Palestine.  It  lay  on  the  great  caravan 
road  that  ran  between  Damascus  and  Jerusalem,  in  the 
midst  of  a  green  well- watered  plain,  '  the  very  fairyland 
of  the  old  world.'  It  was  a  city  of  trim,  well-built  houses, 
of  silver  streams,  of  palm  groves,  and  rose  gardens. 
Above  all  it  was  famous  for  its  plantations  of  balsam, 
whose  sweet  scent  everywhere  filled  the  air,  and  gave 
it  the  name  of  '  the  city  of  fragrance.' 

There  was  a  beggar-man  sitting  by  the  roadside,  the 
day  that  Jesus  passed  by.  His  name  was  Bartimaeus. 
Poor,  friendless,  and  in  want,  it  was  his  daily  custom  to 
grope  his  way  from  the  city  walls,  and  sit  and  beg  of  the 
pilgrims  who  passed  by  on  their  way  to  the  Holy  City. 
Beautiful  were  the  palm-trees  that  waved  by  the  road- 
side where  he  sat ;  fair  in  the  distance  sprang  the  spires 
and  towers  of  *  the  city  of  roses ' ;  but  Bartimaeus  saw 
nothing  of  the  beauty  of  the  scene  that  lay  before  him. 


296  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

for  he  was  quite  blind.  There  he  sat  in  his  tattered 
garments  day  after  day,  wrapped  in  darkness  as  in  a 
cloak. 

To-day,  however,  God's  hand  pours  sunshine  into  his 
life.  As  he  sits  with  outstretched  hand  and  vacant  face, 
suddenly  he  hears  in  the  distance  a  sound  as  of  the  tramp 
of  advancing  feet.  There  is  a  crowd  coming  along.  As 
it  draws  nearer  he  can  hear  the  hum  of  excited  voices, 
and  as  he  listens  he  begins  to  grow  excited  himself. 
'  Who  is  it  ? '  he  asks.  '  What  is  the  matter  ? '  The 
passers-by  tell  him  that  it  is  Jesus  of  Nazareth  who  is 
passing  by.  Jesus  of  Nazareth !  why  that  must  be  the 
great  Prophet  who  a  few  days  ago  raised  a  dead  man  to 
life  at  Bethany;  that  must  be  the  Jesus  of  whom  he 
himself  has  so  often  dreamed  as  coming  to  him  one  day, 
and  laying  His  hand  on  his  poor,  sightless  eyes,  and 
saying,  *  Bartimseus,  receive  thy  sight ! ' 

'  Jesus,  thou  Son  of  David,  have  mercy  upon  me ! '  he 
cries,  and  even  as  he  speaks  the  crowd  surges  past.  His 
cries  redouble.  Hard,  unkindly  voices  bid  him  cease  his 
clamour,  but  he  takes  no  heed  of  them.  The  more  the 
crowd  bids  him  be  silent,  the  more  earnestly  he  makes 
his  appeal  for  help.  Jesus  hears  his  pitiful  cry,  and  it 
touches  His  compassionate  heart.  He  stands  still  and 
commands  the  blind  beggar  to  be  brought  before  Him. 
*  Be  of  good  comfort,  rise.  He  calleth  thee ! '  comes  the 
message,  and  the  blind  man  staggers  to  his  feet.  His 
long  cloak  entangles  him — he  casts  it  from  him  ;  friendly 
hands  seize  him,  and  he  is  half  led,  half  pushed,  into  Jesus' 
presence. 

'  What  wilt  thou  that  I  should  do  unto  thee  ? '  comes 
Jesus'  voice,  as  the  beggar  stands  trembling  before  Him, 
and  the  blind  man  answers  with  tears,  '  Lord,  that  I 
might  receive  my  sight.'     And  Jesus  says,  '  Receive  thy 


THE  BLIND  BEGGAR  OF  JERICHO      297 

sight,'  and  the  beggar  looks  up,  and,  O  God,  he  sees! 
There  are  the  waving  trees,  the  blue  sky,  the  dusty  road, 
the  wondering,  excited  faces  hemming  him  round.  It  is 
all  true,  it  is  no  dream.  Above  all,  bending  over  him,  is 
the  face  of  Jesus.  One  glance  at  that  face  and  the 
beggar's  swift  resolve  is  taken.  He  follows  Jesus  in 
the  way. 

'  And  wert  thou,  Love,  so  near  me  then  ? 
I  heard  Thy  name  on  lips  of  men, 
I  felt  the  crowd,  the  laden  air — 
I  knew  that  something  great  was  there. 

'  The  thickly  trampling  feet  I  heard. 
And  robes  that  brushed,  and  limbs  that  stirred : 
The  dust  upon  my  lips  lay  dry, — 
The  crowd  thronged  on  :  Thou  passedst  by ! 

'  And  I  could  see  no  face,  no  form ; 
I  felt  the  sun  above  me  warm ; 
I  asked — I  know  not  whom — to  say 
Who  passes,  'mid  that  throng  to-day  ? 

'"Jesus  !"  I  cried,  nor  would  forbear; 
"  Thou  Son  of  David,  hear  my  prayer  ;  " 
And  yet  I  never  thought  that  He 
Would  stop,  would  call,  would  speak  to  me. 

'  Men  led  me — drew  me — to  His  side : 
I  felt  the  buzzing  crowd  divide ; 
Then  came  a  voice  I  could  not  dread — 
"What  wilt  thou  I  should  do?"  it  said. 

'  Oh,  might  I,  Lord,  receive  my  sight ! — 
He  spake  one  word,  and  all  was  light ! 
A  dazzling  glow,  that  on  my  brain 
Rushed  like  a  golden  shower  of  rain  ! 

*  Ay,  there  were  men  there  !  that  I  knew, 
A  shifting  scene  of  every  hue ; 
I  saiv  them  not :  I  could  but  see 
Thy  face,  O  Love,  bent  down  to  me ! 


298  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

<  How  oft  with  staff  and  groping  hands 
I  've  felt  my  way  through  darkened  lands, 
Nor  knew  His  footsteps  (though  divine) 
Were  treading  very  earth  like  mine  ! 

*  How  oft  I  've  felt  the  sunbeam  glow, 
Nor  knew  its  glory  lit  His  brow  !  — 
How  oft  I  've  felt  the  nightly  air, 

Nor  thought  'twas  laden  with  His  prayer! 

*  O  Love, — so  near  and  yet  unknown  ! 
O  Face, — a  man's  face,  like  our  own  ! 
And  wert  Thou  then  so  close,  .   .   .  and  I 
Sat  begging  for  a  crust  hard  by  ?  ' 

(Elizabeth  Wordsworth.) 

A  little  further  on,  and  Jesus  met  with  a  rich  man 
who  came  over  to  His  side,  drawn  like  Bartimeeus  by 
the  sight  of  His  face  and  the  magic  of  His  loving  words. 
His  name  was  Zacchasus ;  he  was  chief  of  the  large 
colony  of  tax-gatherers  who  were  stationed  at  Jericho  to 
collect  the  dues  arising  from  the  balsam  trade.  He, 
too,  was  familiar  with  the  name  of  Jesus,  and  had  long 
desired  to  see  Him.  He  was  sitting  in  his  custom-house, 
when  he  heard  a  rumour  that  Jesus  was  approaching  the 
gates  of  the  city,  and  he  at  once  started  forth  to  try  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  Him.  Now  Zacchseus  was  a  little  man, 
and  he  soon  found  that  there  was  small  chance  of  his 
seeing  Jesus,  on  account  of  the  press.  And  so,  running 
a  little  way  ahead,  he  climbed  up  into  the  spreading 
branches  of  a  wild  fig-tree  that  overhung  the  road  by 
which  Jesus  must  pass  into  the  city,  and  there  awaited 
His  coming. 

By  and  by  the  crowd  drew  near,  and  Zacchseus,  peering 
from  behind  his  leafy  screen,  eagerly  searched  the  faces  of 
the  crowd  to  discover  Jesus.  He  thought  himself  quite 
unnoticed,  but  there  was  One  who  noticed  him.     Jesus, 


HOW  ZACCHiEUS  SAW  JESUS  299 

as  He  passed  beneath  the  tree,  looked  up,  and  called  the 
publican  by  his  name.  '  Zacchasus,'  He  said,  '  make  haste 
and  come  down,  for  to-day  I  must  abide  at  thy  house.' 

Surprised  and  overjoyed,  Zacchaeus  at  once  descends, 
and  stands  humbly  before  Jesus,  awaiting  His  commands. 
The  crowd  exchange  wondering  glances  with  one  another. 
What  did  Jesus  mean  ?  Did  He  know  that  this  man,  to 
whose  house  He  had  invited  Himself,  was  a  hated 
publican  ?  Why,  if  the  Prophet  needed  shelter,  did  He 
not  seek  it  in  the  house  of  some  priest  or  Levite,  or  at 
any  rate  of  a  person  with  some  claims  to  respectability  ? 

But  Jesus  pays  no  heed  to  the  loud  murmurs  of  the 
crowd.  It  was  not  the  first  time  that  He  had  willed  to 
be  the  guest  of  a  man  who  was  a  sinner.  Quietly  He 
withdraws  Himself  from  the  throng,  and  follows  Zacchseus 
to  his  home. 

Ah  !  that  was  a  happy  day  for  the  rich  publican  that 
saw  Jesus,  'the  Friend  of  sinners,'  an  honoured  guest 
beneath  his  roof.  As  he  looked  into  Jesus'  eyes  and 
listened  to  the  music  of  His  wise  and  tender  words  his 
heart  was  strangely  moved.  In  the  light  of  that  holy 
presence  he  saw  his  past  life  in  its  true  colours,  and  it 
became  hateful  to  him ;  he  thought  with  shame  upon  all 
the  fraud  and  trickery  and  oppression  of  which  he  had 
been  guilty.  God  help  him !  he  would  try  to  make 
amends  for  his  past,  he  would  try  to  lead  a  nobler,  better 
life  henceforth  ;  if  only  for  the  sake  of  the  compassionate 
Saviour  who  had  taken  him  by  the  hand  and  called  him 
'friend.' 

'  Behold,  Lord,'  he  says,  standing  with  bowed  head 
before  Jesus,  '  the  half  of  my  goods  I  give  to  the  poor ; 
and  if  I  have  taken  anything  from  any  man  by  false 
accusation  I  restore  him  fourfold.' 

As  Zacchseus  speaks  we  seem  to  see  Jesus'  eyes  kindle 


300  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

with  a  new  and  loving  light.  '  This  day,'  He  says 
solemnly,  '  is  salvation  come  to  this  house,  forsomuch  as 
he  also  is  a  son  of  Abraham.  For  the  Son  of  Man  is 
come  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost.' 

Leaving  fair  Jericho,  girdled  about  with  its  palm-trees 
and  rose  gardens,  Jesus  and  His  disciples  mingled  once 
more  among  the  crowd  of  pilgrims,  who,  with  music  and 
singing,  were  making  the  ascent  of  the  wild  and  rocky 
gorge  which  wound  along  uphill  all  the  way  to  distant 
Jerusalem. 

By  and  by,  as  they  drew  nearer  to  the  city,  and  the 
crowd  around  their  Master  began  to  grow  denser, 
thoughts  of  His  coming  triumph  began  once  more  to  fill 
the  disciples'  minds.  In  a  dream  they  seemed  to  see  the 
throne  of  ivory  and  gold  set  up,  and  their  Master  heaping 
His  rich  rewards  upon  them.  His  chosen  ministers  of 
state.  Jesus  read  His  disciples'  unspoken  thoughts,  and 
in  answer  to  them  He  gave  them  the  parable  of  the 
nobleman  and  the  pieces  of  money. 

There  was  a  certain  nobleman.  He  said,  who  went 
into  a  far  country  to  receive  a  kingdom  for  himself,  and 
to  return.  (As  they  listened  to  Jesus'  words  the  disciples 
would  remember  that  this  was  what  two  noblemen, 
Herod  the  Great  and  Archelaus  his  son,  had  actually 
done.  Both  these  kings,  at  different  times,  had  travelled 
from  Jericho  to  far-off  Rome  to  receive  their  crowns 
at  the  hands  of  the  Roman  Emperor,  and  to  return.) 
Before  starting,  Jesus  went  on,  the  nobleman  called 
together  ten  of  his  servants  and  gave  each  of  them  a  sum 
of  money,  known  as  a  mina,  worth  about  three  pounds 
of  our  coinage,  bidding  them  trade  with  it  while  he  was 
away.  But  the  citizens  hated  him,  and  sent  an  embassy 
after  him  saying  that  they  would  not  have  him  as  their 
king. 


THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  POUNDS   301 

After  a  while  the  nobleman  returned  home,  having 
received  his  kingdom.  Calling  his  servants  together  he 
bade  them  give  an  account  of  their  stewardship.  Then 
the  first  servant  came,  and  lo,  his  hands  were  full  of  gold  ! 
He  had  turned  his  lord's  mina  to  such  good  account  that 
he  had  increased  it  tenfold.  '  Well,  thou  good  servant,' 
said  his  master  in  kindly  tones,  'because  thou  hast  been 
faithful  in  a  very  little,  have  thou  authority  over  ten 
cities.'  And  then  a  second  servant  came,  and  in  like 
fashion  showed  gold  and  silver  pieces  five  times  as  many 
as  he  had  received,  and  he  too  was  rewarded  for  his 
industry  by  being  set  over  five  cities. 

At  last  came  one  with  sullen,  half- frightened  air,  and 
stood  before  his  master.  *  Lord,  here  is  the  money  you 
gave  me — I  have  kept  it  safely  wrapped  up — I  did  not 
dare  to  touch  it,  because  I  was  afraid  of  you.  You  are 
so  hard,  taking  up  what  you  laid  not  down  and  reaping 
where  you  did  not  straw.'  And  at  these  unjust  and 
insolent  words,  the  king's  eyes  flashed  with  anger. 
*  Wicked  servant,'  he  answers,  '  I  judge  you  out  of  your 
own  mouth.  Why,  if  I  was  the  kind  of  master  you 
describe  me,  hard,  grasping,  and  severe,  did  you  not  pay 
my  money  into  a  bank  so  that  I  should  at  least  have  had 
it  returned  to  me  with  interest?  Take  away  his  one 
mina,'  he  adds  sternly,  turning  to  those  who  stood  by, 
'  and  give  it  to  the  man  with  ten.  For  I  say  unto  you, 
that  unto  every  one  that  hath  shall  be  given,  and  from 
him  that  hath  not,  even  that  which  he  hath  shall  be 
taken  away  from  him.'  Then  comes  the  awful  sentence 
pronounced  over  his  rebellious  subjects,  '  But  those  mine 
enemies,  which  would  not  that  I  should  rule  over  them, 
bring  hither,  and  slay  them  before  me.' 

In  this  story  of  the  nobleman  and  his  servants  Jesus 
was   drawing  a   picture  of  Himself  and    His   disciples. 


302  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

The  far-oiF  country,  of  which  the  parable  speaks,  stands 
for  the  far-off  land  of  Heaven  whither  He  was  so  soon 
to  take  His  journey,  in  order  to  be  crowned  by  His 
Father  with  kingly  power  and  authority  over  His  Church. 
The  day  was  coming  when  He  should  return  to  His 
Kingdom  again  in  triumph  and  great  glory ;  only,  be- 
tween His  going  away  and  His  coming  back  a  long 
stretch  of  years  must  intervene.  The  present  time 
therefore  for  His  disciples  was  the  time  for  working, 
not  for  receiving  rewards,  for  serving  not  reigning.  Only 
at  the  King's  return  would  the  reckoning  be  made. 
Then  the  faithful  servant  should  receive  his  due  reward, 
while  the  idle  and  unfaithful  should  suffer  loss.  Then, 
too,  the  King's  enemies — those  who  would  not  acknow- 
ledge His  rule  or  bear  His  yoke — should  meet  the  awful 
doom  of  destruction.  '  For  He  must  reign  until  He  hath 
put  all  enemies  under  His  feet.' 

The  road  to  Jerusalem  led  by  Bethany.  It  was 
growing  dusk,  and  Jesus  was  glad  to  rest  for  a  while  in 
the  little  village  which  was  endeared  to  Him  by  so  many 
happy  memories.  There  in  the  house  of  His  friends  He 
remained  all  that  night.  The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath, 
and  in  the  evening  a  supper  was  given  in  His  honour. 
It  took  place  in  the  house  of  a  man  named  Simon,  who 
had  been  a  leper,  and  whom  perhaps  Jesus  had  Him- 
self healed. 

Let  us  in  thought  enter  with  Jesus  into  Simon's 
home.  The  dining-room  is  bright  with  lights  and  gay 
with  flowers,  and  its  floor  is  spread  with  carpets  of  many 
colours ;  couches  are  ranged  around  the  low,  gaily-painted 
table,  and  the  guests  are  already  taking  their  places. 
There,  foremost  to  greet  the  Master,  is  Martha.  She  has 
been  busy  all  the  evening  in  helping  to  set  out  the  table, 
to  arrange  the  dishes,  and  to  cook  the  food.     There  is 


MARY  OF  BETHANY  303 

Lazarus  —  grave,  silent,  dreamy-eyed  —  a  man  who  has 
looked  upon  the  spirit  world,  and  upon  whom  the  other 
guests  keep  turning  furtive,  wondering  glances.  There 
is  Mary,  with  her  flower-like  face  and  low  gentle  voice ; 
so  happy  at  the  thought  of  taking  her  place  once  more 
at  Jesus'  feet.  As  we  look  on,  we  see  Jesus  conducted 
to  the  place  of  honour  at  the  host's  right  hand.  How 
eagerly  His  every  want  is  provided  for ;  with  what 
earnestness  the  assembled  guests  hang  upon  His  words ! 

At  length  the  evening  meal  nears  its  end.  And  now 
Mary,  her  gentle  heart  brimming  over  with  love  and 
gratitude,  prepares  to  make  her  great  thank-offering  to 
Him  who  has  poured  back  joy  and  peace  into  her  once 
empty,  desolate  home.  Bearing  in  her  hands  a  jar  of 
alabaster,  filled  with  oil  of  spikenard,  'very  precious,' she 
comes  from  behind,  and  breaking  the  jar's  narrow  neck, 
she  pours  the  costly  ointment  first  on  the  head  and  then 
over  the  feet  of  Jesus,  as  He  reclines  upon  His  couch. 
Then  stooping  down  she  wipes  His  feet  with  the  long 
tresses  of  her  hair,  just  like  Mary  of  Magdala,  while  the 
odour  of  the  ointment  fills  the  whole  house  with  its 
delicious  fragrance. 

To  anoint  the  feet  even  of  kings  was  at  this  time  an 
unheard-of  thing.  Amid  all  the  pomp  and  extravagance 
of  pagan  Rome,  we  are  told,  no  such  tribute  had  ever 
been  paid  to  an  emperor.  It  is  not  surprising  therefore 
that  at  the  sight  the  assembled  guests  should  gaze  at  one 
another  in  wonder,  and  begin  to  whisper  among  them- 
selves. Presently  a  grating  voice  is  heard  speaking  out 
what  many  are  only  thinking,  '  Why  was  this  waste  of 
the  ointment  made?  For  it  might  have  been  sold  for 
more  than  three  hundred  silver  pence,  and  have  been 
given  to  the  poor.'  Strange!  it  is  the  voice  of  one  of 
Jesus'  own  disciples,  Judas  Iscariot. 


304  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Judas  was  the  purse-bearer  of  the  little  band  of  the 
disciples,  and  it  was  gall  and  wormwood  to  him  to  see  so 
costly  a  gift  thrown  away,  as  it  seemed,  in  so  careless  a 
fashion.  His  fingers  itched  to  have  the  handling  of  the 
silver  pieces  of  which  he  spoke.  It  was  not  the  poor  he 
was  thinking  of  Love  of  money,  like  some  evil,  poisonous 
growth,  had  begun  to  twine  about  his  heart,  until  it  had 
choked  all  that  was  best  and  noblest  in  his  character,  and 
he  had  even  sunk  so  low  as  to  become  a  thief,  and  to  steal 
the  money  committed  to  his  charge. 

Poor,  miserable,  unhappy  Judas !  Even  now  the 
hideous  plan  of  selling  his  Master  into  the  hands  of 
His  enemies  for  money  was  slowly  shaping  itself  in  his 
mind.  Jesus'  oft  repeated  words  about  His  sufferings 
and  death  had  at  last  convinced  him  that  after  all  there 
was  to  be  no  triumphal  setting  up  of  the  Kingdom  at 
Jerusalem,  and  therefore  no  crowns  and  rich  rewards  to 
be  given  away.  All  his  pleasant  dreams  of  power  and 
glory  and  a  high  place  were  fast  vanishing  into  air.  He 
felt  desperate  with  the  sense  of  the  wrong  that  had  been 
done  him.  Cheated  and  betrayed  as  he  felt  himself  to 
be,  it  only  remained  for  him  to  snatch  what  he  could  out 
of  the  ruin  which  was  so  swiftly  coming  on. 

Jesus,  meanwhile,  had  marked  the  whispering  and  the 
looks  of  disapproval  that  were  being  bent  upon  Mary, 
and  His  voice,  which  was  always  lifted  up  on  behalf  of  the 
weak  and  oppressed,  is  now  raised  in  her  defence.  '  Why 
trouble  ye  her  ?  He  asks.  She  hath  wrought  a  good 
work  on  Me.  For  ye  have  the  poor  with  you  always, 
and  whensoever  ye  will  ye  may  do  them  good :  but  Me 
ye  have  not  always.  She  hath  done  what  she  could  :  she 
is  come  aforehand  to  anoint  my  body  to  the  burying. 
Verily,  I  say  unto  you,  wheresoever  this  gospel  shall 
be    preached    throughout    the    whole    world,    this    also 


MARY  OF  BETHANY  305 

that  she  hath  done  shall  be  spoken  of  for  a  memorial 
of  her.' 

And  so  Mary's  devotion  met  with  its  reward.  Little 
did  the  guests  at  Simon's  supper  imagine  how  wonderfully 
the  words  of  Jesus  should  be  fulfilled.  They  did  not 
dream  that  the  simple  story  of  a  woman's  devotion  should 
go  into  all  lands,  and  its  sound  unto  the  ends  of  the 
world.  Yet  so  it  was  to  be.  The  fragrance  of  Mary's 
loving  gift  was  never  to  die.  It  lingers  yet.  Still  when- 
ever the  story  of  the  anointing  at  Bethany  is  told,  the 
House — the  Church  of  Jesus — is  filled  with  the  odour 
of  the  ointment. 


BOOK    III 
THE  VALLEY   OF  THE   SHADOW 


As  I  was  going  to  Bethlehem-town^ 

Upon  the  earth  I  cast  me  down 

All  underneath  a  little  tree^ 

That  whispered  in  this  wise  to  me, 

"  Oh,  I  shall  stand  on  Calvary, 

And  bear  what  burthen  saveth  thee  ! " 

Again  I  walk  in  Bethlehem-town, 

And  think  on  Him  that  wears  the  crown. 

I  may  not  kiss  His  feet  again. 

Nor  worship  Him  as  I  did  then  ; 

My  King  hath  died  upon  the  tree. 

And  hath  outpoured  on  Calvary 

What  blood  redeemeth  you  and  me  ! ' 


HOW  THE  KING  ENTERED  JERUSALEM  IN  TRIUMPH — THE 
FRUITLESS  FIG-TREE — THE  SECOND  CLEANSING  OF  THE 
TEMPLE — THE  LITTLE  SINGING  CHILDREN THE  QUES- 
TION WHICH  WAS  PUT  TO  JESUS  IN  THE  TEMPLE  AND 
HOW  HE  ANSWERED  IT — THE  PARABLES  OF  THE  FALSE 
SON,  THE  WICKED  HUSBANDMEN,  AND  THE  WEDDING- 
FEAST 

It  was  the  last  week  of  Jesus'  earthly  life.  We  think 
of  Him  as  of  a  traveller  who  has  long  been  climbing 
the  rugged  side  of  some  great  mountain.  The  sun  is 
going  down  as  he  gains  the  summit.  In  a  moment  we 
see  his  figure  outlined  against  the  evening  sky,  the  next 
he  slowly  descends  into  the  gathering  shadows  on  the 
other  side,  and  is  gone. 

Three-and-thirty  years  had  passed  by  since  Jesus,  as  a 
little  Child,  had  begun  to  climb  life's  rugged  hill,  and  now 
its  top  was  reached  at  last.  As  He  looked  back  He  could 
see  the  path  by  which  He  had  come.  There  at  the  very 
foot  of  the  hill  lay  Bethlehem's  thymy  dale ;  there  the 
little  flower  city  of  Nazareth  with  its  carpenter's  shop. 
How  far  away  it  all  seemed  !  How  full  of  pain  and  dis- 
appointment the  journey  had  been !  With  a  sigh  we 
seem  to  see  Him  turn  away.  The  sun  sinks ;  He  goes 
down  into  the  valley  of  the  shadow. 

Jesus'  last  Sabbath  night  on  earth  had  been  spent  at 


310  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Bethany,  and  now,  as  the  sun's  rays  touched  to  gold  the 
misty  summits  of  the  eastern  hills,  He  left  Bethany  and 
set  out  once  more  for  Jerusalem. 

Early  as  it  was,  the  streets  of  the  little  village  were 
full  of  people.  The  caravans,  as  they  passed  on  their  way 
to  the  Holy  City,  had  spread  the  news  that  the  Prophet  of 
Nazareth  was  on  His  way  to  keep  the  Passover,  and  many 
of  the  inhabitants  had  come  out  to  meet  Him  and  to 
escort  Him  back  in  triumph. 

There  was  a  little  hamlet  called  Bethphage  (or  the 
House  of  Green  Figs),  which  lay  on  the  way  to  Jerusalem. 
As  they  drew  near  this  village  Jesus  sent  on  two  of  His 
disciples,  telling  them  that  in  the  village  street  they 
would  find  an  ass  tethered,  with  an  untrained  colt  at  her 
side.  These  they  were  to  untie  and  bring  to  Him. 
Should  the  owner  question  them  as  to  what  they  were 
about,  they  were  to  answer,  'The  Lord  hath  need  of 
them,'  and  the  man — himself  no  doubt  a  disciple  of  Jesus 
— would  be  satisfied. 

Jesus  did  not  intend  to  enter  Jerusalem  secretly — 
there  was  no  need  now  for  concealment — He  claimed  His 
right  to  ride  into  the  city  in  royal  fashion,  just  as  the 
Jewish  kings  and  prophets  of  old  had  done. 

Many  hundreds  of  years  before,  the  prophet  Zechariah 
had  written, '  Rejoice  greatly,  O  daughter  of  Zion ;  shout, 
O  daughter  of  Jerusalem  :  behold,  thy  King  cometh  unto 
thee:  He  is  just,  and  having  salvation;  lowly,  and  riding 
upon  an  ass,  and  upon  a  colt  the  foal  of  an  ass.' 

To-day  the  King  was  coming  as  it  had  been  told. 

The  two  disciples  found  the  ass  with  the  colt  by  its 
side  just  as  their  Master  had  said,  and  they  brought  them 
to  Jesus.  Spreading  their  garments  upon  the  colt's  back, 
they  set  Jesus  upon  it,  and,  surrounded  by  the  crowd.  He 
began  to  ride  slowly  on  towards  Jerusalem. 


THE  ENTRY  INTO  JERUSALEM        311 

News  of  His  approach  had  been  carried  to  the  city, 
and  fresh  bands  of  pilgrims  had  by  this  time  arrived  from 
Jerusalem,  bearing  palm  branches  in  their  hands.  Every 
moment  the  crowd  grew  larger.  Some  with  eager  hands 
began  to  tear  down  boughs  from  the  olive-trees  that 
bordered  the  road,  and  to  strew  their  silver  leafage  before 
Him,  others  to  unloose  their  long  coloured  cloaks  and 
to  spread  them  upon  the  ground  as  a  carpet  for  the  ass's 
feet. 

The  road  from  Bethany  to  Jerusalem  wound  over  the 
Mount  of  Olives.  As  the  procession  rounded  the  hill, 
those  in  front  caught  their  first  glimpse  of  the  city, 
and  in  an  instant  the  cry  of  '  Hosanna '  (the  '  Save 
now  I  beseech  Thee  '  of  David's  118th  Psalm)  began  to 
be  raised.  Immediately  a  thousand  voices  took  up 
the  strain,  '  Hosanna  ';  '  Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David  '; 
'  Blessed  be  the  King  that  cometh  in  the  Name  of 
the  Lord.' 

There  were  a  number  of  Pharisees  in  the  crowd, 
drawn  to  follow  Jesus  perhaps  by  curiosity.  Not 
acknowledging  Him  to  be  the  Christ  themselves  they 
were  vexed  that  others  should  do  so.  '  Master,'  they 
said, '  rebuke  Thy  disciples.'  But  Jesus  refused  to  rebuke 
them.  It  was  their  right  to  offer,  and  His  pleasure  to 
accept  their  homage.  *  I  tell  you,'  He  said,  '  that,  if  these 
should  hold  their  peace,  the  stones  would  immediately 
cry  out' 

And  so  with  thanksgiving  and  the  voice  of  melody 
the  procession  swept  on  its  way.  And  now  the  road 
dipped  down,  and  the  towers  of  Zion  disappeared,  and 
now  once  more  it  rose,  and  the  whole  city  burst  upon 
the  view.  There  it  lay,  the  city  of  the  Great  King,  in  all 
its  grandeur  and  loveliness ;  the  white  walls  and  golden 
pinnacles  of  its  Temple  glittering  in  the  sun,  its  shining 


312  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

spires  and  mighty  towers  thrusting  themselves  high  into 
the  air,  against  a  background  of  pure  blue  sky. 

At  the  sight,  once  more  the  forest  of  palm  branches 
are  waved,  and  glad  shouts  of  '  Hosanna '  rend  the 
air.  Only  Jesus  is  silent.  As  He  gazes  on  the  fair 
scene  spread  at  His  feet,  the  tears  begin  to  gather 
in  His  eyes,  and  He  breaks  into  a  passionate  cry  of 
grief. 

'  If  thou  hadst  known,  even  thou,  at  least  in  this  thy 
day,  the  things  which  belong  unto  thy  peace,  but  now  they 
are  hid  from  thine  eyes.  For  the  days  shall  come  upon 
thee,  that  thine  enemies  shall  cast  a  trench  about  thee, 
and  compass  thee  round,  and  keep  thee  in  on  every  side, 
and  shall  lay  thee  even  with  the  ground,  and  thy  children 
within  thee ;  and  they  shall  not  leave  in  thee  one  stone 
upon  another ;  because  thou  knewest  not  the  time  of  thy 
visitation.' 

That  must  have  been  a  strange  sight  to  the  crowd, 
Jesus  weeping  over  the  beautiful  city  whose  splendour 
filled  their  hearts  with  joy.  But  ah,  Jesus  could  see  a 
sight  they  could  not  seel  Soon  He  knew  Jerusalem 
should  be  destroyed.  Already  He  could  see  the  Roman 
eagles  planted  on  the  city  walls,  the  smoking  ruins  of 
the  Temple,  and  the  streets  running  red  with  Jewish 
blood.  He  could  see  the  forest  of  crosses  being  set  up 
round  the  city,  and  the  long,  endless  line  of  captive  Jews 
led  away  to  slavery.  Above  the  shouting  and  the 
hosannas  of  the  multitude  His  ear  heard  the  fierce  clash 
of  arms,  and  caught  the  sad  cry  of  the  wounded  and 
the  dying,  and  the  wail  of  the  bereaved.  He  was  looking 
into  a  valley  of  death. 

Yes,  Jerusalem  was  a  doomed  city.  God  had  given 
it  many  chances,  but  it  would  not  take  them  ;  Jesus  had 
again  and  again  called  it  to  repentance  and  brought  it  the 


THK   ENTRY    INTO   JERUSAl.KM 


THE  ENTRY  INTO  JERUSALEM         313 

offer  of  salvation,  but  it  would  not  listen.  And  now  the 
sands  of  God's  patience  had  begun  to  run  out. 

'As  we  listen  to  these  words  of  Jesus,  the  picture 
of  some  mournful  sunset  seems  to  rise  to  view.  The 
bright  red  sun  is  slowly  sinking — sinking  behind  the 
Avestern  hills.  The  day  has  been  long  and  bright,  but 
it  is  almost  over.  Shadows  all  around  are  lengthening; 
soon  it  will  be  quite  dark.  All  around  are  voices  whisper- 
ing in  the  air,  '  Too  late !  too  late !  too  late !  for  many 
have  wasted  those  golden  hours  and  they  can  never 
come  again.' 

And  now  the  long  procession  winds  its  way  down  the 
mountain-side,  through  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane  with 
its  olive  thickets  of  silver-grey,  over  the  bridge  that  spans 
the  Brook  Cedron,  and  up  the  zig-zag  path  on  the  other 
side  of  the  valley,  to  the  city  gate.  By  this  time  all 
Jerusalem  is  astir.  As  the  crowd  sweeps  on,  with  the 
sound  of  shouting  and  the  waving  of  palm  branches,  every 
latticed  window,  and  every  roof  along  the  narrow  streets 
through  which  it  passes,  is  alive  with  eager,  excited  faces. 
The  smith  throws  down  his  hammer,  the  potter  leaves 
his  jars ;  the  jeweller,  the  brazier,  the  weaver,  with  their 
wives  and  little  children,  all  come  crowding  to  their  doors. 
*  Who  is  it  ? '  they  ask  one  another  as  Jesus  rides  by,  half- 
hidden  by  a  sea  of  waving  palms ;  and  the  answer  comes 
clear  and  ringing  from  the  lips  of  the  rejoicing  multitude, 
'  This  is  Jesus,  the  Prophet  of  Nazareth  of  Galilee.' 

And  so  the  King  came  to  His  own  City. 

As  the  procession  reached  the  foot  of  the  Temple 
hill,  or  '  the  Mountain  of  the  House '  as  it  was  called,  it 
began  to  disperse,  for  there  was  an  unwritten  law  which 
said,  '  Let  no  man  go  on  the  Blount  of  the  House  with 
his  staff,  shoes,  or  purse,  or  with  dust  on  his  feet' 

Left  to  Himself,  Jesus  ascended  the  hill  and  entered 


314  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

the  Temple  Court.  There,  to  His  grief  and  indignation, 
He  saw  the  same  scene  repeated  which  had  so  aroused 
His  anger  at  His  first  Passover.  Once  again  '  greed  had 
won  the  battle  against  reverence.'  The  army  of  money- 
changers were  back  again  in  their  old  places.  The 
beautiful  cloistered  walks  were  full  of  cattle  and  sheep, 
and  the  old  sounds  of  wrangling  and  chaffering  and 
violence  filled  the  air. 

For  awhile  Jesus  stood  looking  on  at  the  scene  of  riot 
and  confusion ;  then  He  turned  and  went  slowly  out. 

By  this  time  the  shadows  of  evening  had  fallen,  and 
the  streets  of  the  city  were  beginning  to  twinkle  with 
a  myriad  tiny  lights.  Followed  by  His  disciples,  Jesus 
once  more  made  His  way  to  the  city  gate,  and  with  sad 
and  weary  step  retraced  the  road  to  Bethany. 

The  next  day,  in  the  grey  dusk  of  the  early  morn.  He 
again  set  out  for  Jerusalem.  Beneath  a  star-lit  sky  He 
had  passed  the  night  in  prayer  and  fasting.  Now  the 
morning  had  come  He  began  to  feel  the  pinch  of  hunger. 
There  were  fig-trees  growing  among  the  olive-trees  that 
bordered  the  dusty  road.  It  was  not  the  time  for 
figs,  yet  as  Jesus  passed  by  He  caught  sight  of  a  tree 
which  seemed  to  give  promise  of  fruit.  In  the  fig-tree 
the  leaf  is  often  the  sign  of  good  fruit  below,  and  this 
particular  tree  was  decked  with  a  profusion  of  leaves. 
And  so  Jesus  went  up  to  it  expecting  to  find  some 
early-ripe  figs  upon  it,  or  at  least  some  remains  of  the 
last  year's  violet-coloured  fruit. 

But  when  He  parted  the  spreading  branches  He  found 
no  sign  of  any  figs.  The  tree  was  quite  barren.  With 
all  its  show  of  leaves  it  was  a  poor  deceptive,  worthless 
thing,  fit  only  to  be  hewn  down  and  cast  into  the  fire. 
Then  Jesus  said, '  Let  no  fruit  grow^  on  thee  henceforward 
for  ever,'  and  at  His  words  we  seem  to  see  a  shiver 


THE  FRUITLESS  FIG-TREE  315 

pass  through  the  tree,  and  presently  it  begins  to  droop 
and  die. 

It  was  not,  of  course,  with  the  idea  of  punishing  a 
senseless  tree  that  Jesus  spoke  these  words,  but  rather 
to  preach  His  disciples  a  solemn  sermon  against  the 
danger  of  a  fruitless  rehgion.  It  was  His  way  of  warning 
them  of  the  fate  in  store  for  those  who  seem  to  be  what 
they  really  are  not,  and  who,  under  the  leaves  of  a  fair 
profession,  conceal  a  wicked  or  a  worthless  life.  The 
fig-tree  was  really  a  picture  of  the  Jewish  nation.  Jesus 
had  already  spoken  of  that  nation  under  the  figure  of 
a  fig-tree  planted  in  a  vineyard,  which  bore  no  fruit  and 
was  thus  in  constant  danger  of  being  cut  down. 

God  had  set  His  people  in  a  secure  and  sheltered 
place;  He  had  hedged  them  round,  and  done  His  best 
in  every  way  to  promote  their  growth  in  holiness,  but  all 
in  vain.  Over  and  over  again  He  had  come  seeking  fruit 
on  His  fig-tree  and  had  found  none.  There  were  plenty 
of  leaves,  plenty  of  profession,  much  outside  show,  but 
no  fruits  of  righteousness.  Now  had  come  the  time 
for  judgment.  The  tree  must  disappear.  Already  the 
sentence  had  gone  forth :  *  Let  no  fruit  grow  on  thee 
henceforward  for  ever,' 

Jesus'  anger  was  still  burning  fiercely  against  the 
usurers  and  hucksters  who  had  dared  to  carry  on  their 
unholy  traffic  in  His  Father's  House.  No  sooner  did 
He  reach  Jerusalem  than  He  went  straight  to  the 
Temple  and  began,  as  He  had  done  before,  to  drive 
out  the  sheep  and  oxen,  to  scatter  the  tables  of  the 
money-changers,  and  to  overturn  the  seats  of  the  sellers 
of  doves.  So  jealous  was  He  of  the  honour  of  God's 
House  that  He  would  not  even  allow  a  vessel  to  be 
carried  through  the  Court.  '  It  is  written,'  He  said,  and 
as  He  spoke  His  eyes  were  as  a  flame  of  fire,  '  My  House 


316  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

shall  be  called  the  house  of  prayer ;  but  ye  have  made  it 
a  brigands'  den.' 

'  And  the  blind  and  the  lame  came  to  Him  in  the 
Temple,'  St.  Matthew  tells  us,  'and  He  healed  them.' 

It  was  perhaps  while  He  was  laying  His  hands  on 
these  sick,  friendless  folk,  with  the  old  look  of  tenderness 
and  pity  once  more  upon  His  face,  and  the  leaping  flame 
of  anger  in  His  eyes  now  quite  gone,  that  a  number  of 
children  came  trooping  by.  They  were  the  little  Temple 
chorister  boys,  perhaps  on  their  way  to  practise  the 
psalms  which  they  helped  to  sing  at  the  grand  Temple 
services.  Catching  sight  of  Jesus  they  stopped  and  came 
crowding  round  Him.  Surely  this  was  the  Great  Prophet 
who  had  entered  Jerusalem  in  triumph  yesterday.  They 
had  seen  Him  as  He  rode  past  in  the  streets.  What  a 
splendid  sight  it  had  been !  How  like  a  king  He  had 
looked !  He  was  like  the  pictures  they  had  seen  of 
Joshua,  the  captain  of  the  hosts  of  Israel,  or  David 
with  his  royal  sceptre  and  crown  of  gold.  No  wonder 
the  people  had  cheered  Him,  and  waved  their  palm 
branches  as  He  passed  along.  And  then  their  sweet 
childish  voices  began  to  raise  the  cry  they  had  heard  the 
pilgrim's  chant,  as  Jesus  entered  the  city,  *  Hosanna  to 
the  Son  of  David,'  and  then  again  '  Hosanna,'  until  the 
Temple  cloisters  rang  again. 

Very  tender,  very  loving,  was  the  look  which  Jesus 
turned  on  these  little  Jewish  singing  boys.  It  pleased 
Him  to  hear  their  praises.  To  have  the  children  on  His 
side,  to  know  that  they  at  any  rate  loved  Him  dearly,  this 
made  up  for  much.  But  there  were  some  to  whom  the 
children's  hosanna  gave  no  pleasure.  There  were  a 
number  of  richly-dressed,  supercihous-looking  Scribes 
and  Pharisees  standing  by,  and  as  they  listened  their 
faces  darkened.     *  Hearest  Thou  what  these  say  ? '  they 


THE  LITTLE  SINGING  CHILDREN      317 

asked  Jesus  angrily ;  and  He  answered,  '  Yea ;  have  ye 
never  read,  Out  of  the  mouth  of  babes  and  sucklings 
Thou  hast  perfected  praise  ? ' 

With  the  sound  of  the  children's  voices  still  ringing  in 
His  ears,  Jesus  now  left  the  Temple,  and  the  twilight 
beginning  to  fall,  He  passed  out  of  the  city  and  over  the 
Mount  of  Olives,  on  His  way  to  Bethany. 

Early  the  next  morning  He  set  out  with  His  disciples 
for  Jerusalem.  Presently  they  passed  the  fruitless  fig- 
tree  of  the  day  before,  and  lo !  there  it  stood  in  the  grey 
morning  light — a  dead  thing,  withered  to  the  very  roots. 

'  Master,'  cries  St.  Peter  with  awed  voice,  '  behold 
the  fig-tree  which  Thou  cursedst  is  withered  away ! ' 
And  then  '  the  word  of  judgment  becomes  a  word  of 
promise.'  Jesus  tells  the  apostles  that  with  faith  it 
would  be  possible  for  them  to  do  works  even  more 
wonderful  than  this.  There  was  nothing  the  prayer  of 
faith  could  not  accomplish ;  there  was  no  work  too 
mighty  for  it  to  do.  The  man  with  a  firm  faith  in  God's 
power  and  love  could  even  remove  mountains. 

On  entering  the  Temple  Jesus  found  a  great  crowd 
anxiously  awaiting  His  coming,  and,  taking  His  seat 
among  them,  He  began  to  teach  them. 

Scarcely  had  He  begun  His  lesson,  however,  than  He 
was  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  a  procession  of  rulers 
and  learned  men,  whom  the  great  Council  had  sent  to 
confront  and  crush  Him.  On  they  came,  sweeping  along 
in  their  rich  robes  and  broad  fringes  to  their  garments, 
and,  standing  in  a  half-circle  around  Jesus  while  the 
people  respectfully  gave  way  before  them,  they  asked 
Him  by  what  right  He  had  taken  upon  Himself  the 
office  of  teacher.  '  By  what  authority  doest  Thou  these 
things  ?  and  who  gave  Thee  this  authority  ? ' 

It  was  quite  a  fair  question.     Every  Jewish  teacher 


318  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

sat  at  the  feet  of  some  older  Rabbi,  and  when  he  was 
thought  fit  to  teach  others  he  was  solemnly  set  apart  for 
his  work ;  if  a  scribe  he  was  ordained,  and  received  a  key, 
so  some  say,  as  a  sign  that  he  was  entitled  to  unlock  the 
treasures  of  knowledge  to  the  people. 

Now  Jesus  had  been  ordained  and  set  apart  as  Teacher 
by  the  highest  of  all  authorities,  even  God  Himself;  and 
He  held  in  His  hand  the  golden  key  which  w^as  able  to 
unlock  all  the  treasures  of  earthly  and  Heavenly  wisdom  ; 
but  He  did  not  tell  His  questioners  this.  He  knew  they 
had  only  asked  their  question  in  the  hope  of  entangling 
and  confusing  Him,  and  putting  Him  to  shame  before 
the  people.  And  so  He  only  answered  quietly,  '  I  also 
will  ask  you  one  thing,  which  if  ye  tell  me,  I  in  like  wise 
will  tell  you  by  what  authority  I  do  these  things.  The 
baptism  of  John,  whence  was  it?  from  Heaven,  or  of 
men  ? '  At  His  words  there  was  a  dead  silence.  Scribe 
and  Doctor  looked  at  one  another,  and  knew  not  what  to 
say.  They  could  not  answer  '  from  Heaven,'  for  that 
would  simply  be  to  acknowledge  that  St.  John's  teaching 
was  true,  and  St.  John  had  borne  record  that  Jesus  was 
the  Son  of  God.  They  dared  not  answer  'of  men,'  for 
St.  John  was  the  nation's  hero,  and  they  w^ere  afraid  to 
belittle  him  lest  they  should  provoke  the  anger  of  the 
very  people  whom  they  were  trying  to  detach  from  Jesus' 
side.  And  so,  like  cowards,  they  took  refuge  in  the  plea 
of  ignorance.  '  We  cannot  tell,'  they  said  ;  when  swiftly 
came  Jesus'  answer, '  Neither  tell  I  you  by  what  authority 
I  do  these  things.' 

Having  thus  turned  the  tables  upon  His  adversaries, 
Jesus  went  on  to  speak  three  parables,  to  which  they  were 
forced  to  listen  with  feelings  of  growing  uneasiness  and 
anger.  These  were  the  parables  of  tlie  false  son,  the 
wicked  husbandman,  and  the  wedding-feast. 


THE  AVICKED  HUSBANDMEN  319 

*  A  certain  man,'  He  said, '  had  two  sons,  and  he  came 
to  the  first  and  said,  "  Son,  go  work  to-day  in  my  vine- 
yard." But  his  son  answered  roughly  and  said,  "  I  will 
not " ;  but  afterwards  he  was  sorry  for  his  disobedience 
and  went.  The  second  son  answered  in  quite  a  different 
fashion.  He  was  as  courteous  and  plausible  as  his  brother 
had  been  rough  and  boorish.  "  I  go,  sir,"  he  said — and 
never  went  at  all ! ' 

Now  w^hich  of  these  two,  asks  Jesus,  did  the  will  of 
his  father  ?  Of  course  there  could  be  but  one  answer, 
'The  first' 

Then  Jesus,  turning  to  the  crowd  of  proud  Pharisees 
and  haughty  Doctors,  bade  them  see  in  the  false,  smooth- 
spoken son  a  picture  of  themselves.  The  publicans  and 
the  sinners  had  broken  God's  laws  and  refused  Him  their 
obedience,  but  they  had  repented  at  the  preaching  of 
St.  John  the  Baptist,  and  had  begun  to  set  their  feet 
bravely  in  the  way  of  God's  Commandments  ;  but  they — 
the  leaders  of  religion — had  never  really  turned  to  God 
at  all.  They  had  made  a  great  parade  of  obedience,  there 
had  been  much  pretence  of  service  on  their  part,  but  it 
was  all  outside  show.  They  were  like  the  people  of 
whom  Isaiah  writes,  '  This  people  honoureth  me  with 
their  lips  but  in  their  hearts  they  are  far  from  me.' 

How  Jesus'  w^ords  must  have  stung  His  hearers ;  but 
He  had  not  done  with  them  yet.  As  they  stand  listen- 
ing with  suppressed  fury,  in  grave  and  quiet  tones  He 
goes  on  to  speak  another  parable.  This  time  the  story 
told  is  that  of  a  man  who  was  lord  of  a  beautiful  vine- 
yard, on  whose  improvement  he  had  spent  much  time  and 
trouble.  On  leaving  for  a  far  country  he  let  this  vineyard 
out  to  certain  husbandmen,  and,  by  and  by,  w'hen  the 
time  of  grape  harvest  drew  nigh,  he  sent  his  servants  to 
them  to  demand  his  rightful  dues. 


320  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

But  the  false  husbandmen  refused  to  pay  any  dues ; 
they  would   not  so  much  as  part  with  a  single  bunch' 
of  grapes.     Not  only  so,  they   beat  and  ill-treated  the 
messengers,  and  even  went  so  far  as   to  kill  some  of 
them. 

At  last  the  owner  of  the  vineyard  determined  to  send 
his  only  son  to  deal  with  these  wicked,  desperate  men. 
'  They  are  sure  to  respect  my  son,'  he  thinks.  But  when 
the  husbandmen  saw  the  son  their  eyes  shone  with  an 
evil  light.  '  This  is  the  heir,'  they  whispered  among  them- 
selves. '  Come,  let  us  kill  him,  and  then  we  can  seize 
the  vineyard  for  ourselves.'  And  so  they  fell  upon  him 
and  slew  him. 

Now  what,  asks  Jesus,  will  the  lord  of  the  vineyard 
do  to  these  husbandmen  ? 

Interested  in  His  story  in  spite  of  themselves,  and 
quite  taken  off  their  guard.  His  hearers  answer  that 
he  would,  of  course,  miserably  destroy  the  wicked 
husbandmen  and  let  out  his  vineyard  to  others.  They 
did  not  know  they  were  giving  sentence  against  them- 
selves, yet  so  it  was.  'The  vineyard  of  the  Lord  of 
Hosts  is  the  house  of  Israel,  and  the  men  of  Judah  His 
pleasant  plant ;  and  He  looked  for  judgment  but  behold 
oppression  ;  for  righteousness  but  behold  a  cry.' 

God  had  let  out  His  vineyard,  the  Jewish  Church,  to 
the  ruling  classes  among  the  Jews ;  He  had  made  them 
the  leaders  and  teachers  of  the  people ;  but  what  had 
they  done  with  His  inheritance  ?  Where  were  the  fruits 
of  righteousness  which  He  had  a  right  to  expect  ?  Think 
of  the  patience  and  forbearance  with  which  He  had  treated 
these  priests  and  Pharisees,  and  how  basely  they  had 
repaid  His  kindness.  In  time  of  old  He  had  sent  His 
messengers  the  prophets,  and  their  forefathers  had 
persecuted  them. 


THE  MARRIAGE  OF  THE  KING'S  SON     321 

Jeremiah  they  had  shiin,  Isaiah  they  had  sawn 
asunder ;  Zacharias,  the  son  of  Barachias,  they  had  killed 
between  the  horns  of  the  altar.  And  now  that  Jesus 
Himself  had  come,  the  wicked  husbandmen  were  making 
ready  to  nail  Him  to  the  Cross.  What  could  God  do 
but  take  away  the  vineyard  from  men  like  these  and  give 
it  into  the  hands  of  others  ? 

Then,  as  Jesus  ended  His  parable,  He  reminded  His 
listeners  of  that  verse  of  David's  psalm  which  tells  of  a 
stone  rejected  of  the  Temple  builders  only  to  become  in 
the  end  the  chief  corner-stone,  binding  the  walls  of  the 
building  together  and  crowning  them  with  strength  and 
beauty. 

That  Stone  was  Christ.  Rejected  by  the  Jews,  He 
had  been  chosen  by  God  as  the  corner-stone  of  a  building 
greater  and  more  splendid  far  than  any  earthly  Temple, 
even  the  building  of  His  '  Holy  Church  throughout  all 
the  world.' 

Woe  to  those  who  should,  by  rejecting  Him,  stumble 
over  that  Stone,  for  they  should  be  sorely  bruised,  even 
though  by  repentance  it  might  be  possible  for  them  to 
rise  again.  Woe,  thrice  woe,  to  those  upon  whom  the 
Stone  should  fall  in  judgment  at  the  last  day,  when  the 
time  for  repentance  had  gone  by,  for  it  should  scatter 
them  as  the  dust. 

By  this  time  the  faces  of  Jesus'  enemies  were  white 
with  rage.  It  was  only  the  presence  of  the  crowd  which 
prevented  them  from  laying  violent  hands  upon  Him  ;  but 
they  were  to  listen  to  yet  another  parable  of  judgement 
from  His  lips.  The  parable  of  the  wedding  feast  follows 
on  the  same  lines  as  the  parable  of  the  great  supper. 
Only  here  the  giver  of  the  feast  is  represented  as  a  king, 
and  the  occasion  of  the  feast  the  marriage  of  the  king's  son. 
This  time,  too,  the  invited  guests  not  only  refuse  the 


322  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

invitation  sent  them,  but  they  even  beat  and  insult  and 
slay  the  royal  messengers.  The  story  ends,  too,  in  a  sterner 
fashion.  Filled  with  anger  at  the  insults  and  injuries 
that  had  been  heaped  upon  him,  the  king  sends  his  armies 
and  destroys  the  murderers  and  burns  up  their  city. 

Such  should  be  the  fate  of  the  Jewish  nation,  Jesus 
seems  to  say.  They,  the  Jews,  had  refused  God's  calls 
and  abused  His  messengers,  and  now  God  was  preparing 
to  send  His  armies  against  them,  even  the  armies  of 
Rome.  His  enemies  should  be  put  to  the  sword  and 
their  beautiful  city,  Jerusalem,  given  to  the  flames. 

But  the  parable  does  not  end  here.  After  the  first 
invited  guests  refuse  the  invitation  sent  them,  the 
servants,  just  as  in  the  parable  of  the  great  supper, 
are  sent  into  the  highways ;  and  presently  the  king's 
hall  is  filled  to  overflowing  with  guests  gathered  from 
every  quarter. 

Now  the  king,  though  glad  to  welcome  the  very 
poorest  to  his  table,  was  rightly  particular  that  every 
one  should  come  decently  attired  to  the  feast  given  in 
honour  of  his  son.  Beautiful  white  linen  garments  were 
therefore  provided  at  the  palace  for  all  who  had  need  of 
them,  and  with  these  the  invited  guests  made  haste  to 
clothe  themselves. 

But  there  was  one  man  who,  either  out  of  sheer 
carelessness  or  else  studied  insolence,  did  not  trouble  to 
put  on  the  white  garment  provided  by  the  king,  but 
sat  down  to  the  banquet  in  his  common  everyday 
clothes. 

By  and  by  the  king  comes  into  the  banquet  hall,  when 
his  eye  at  once  lights  on  this  disrespectful  guest.  His 
face  grows  dark.  'Why  are  you  here  without  your 
wedding  garment?'  he  asks  sternly,  and  at  his  words 
the  man's  throat  grows  dry  with  fear,  and  his  lips  are 


THE  KING'S  ROBE  32;3 

unable  to  stammer  out  one  word  of  excuse.  *  Remove 
him,'  says  the  king,  turning  to  his  servants ;  '  bind  him 
with  chains  and  lead  him  forth  to  his  doom.'  And  out  of 
the  bright  banquet  hall,  with  its  lights  and  flowers  and 
music,  the  man  is  dragged  ;  the  great  door  opens — and 
with  a  cry  he  vanishes  into  the  darkness  and  silence  of 
the  night. 

Dear  child,  this  latter  part  of  Jesus'  parable  comes 
with  a  sound  of  solemn  warning  to  ourselves.  We  are 
among  the  invited  guests  of  which  it  speaks.  God,  the 
Great  King,  has  called  us  all  to  His  Heavenly  Banquet, 
to  fill  the  places  of  those  who  of  old  were  called  but 
would  not  come.  All  are  invited,  for  there  is  room 
for  all. 

Only  the  King's  guests  must  wear  the  King's  robe. 
They  must  be  found  clothed,  not  in  their  own  righteous- 
ness, but  in  the  fair  white  robe  of  righteousness  which 
Jesus  gives.  Nothing  common  or  unclean  can  enter  the 
Home  of  God  ;  Heaven's  joys  are  only  for  those  who 
have  learnt  to  repent  of  sin,  and  who  have  the  Heavenly 
mind.  And  so  I  learn  this  lesson.  If  I  would  enter 
Heaven  hereafter  I  must  seek  to  '  put  on  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ'  now;  my  prayer  to  God  must  be  the  prayer 
which  David  prayed  of  old  : — 

'  Create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God,  and  renew  a 
right  spirit  within  me.  Cast  me  not  away  from  Thy 
presence,  and  take  not  Thy  Holy  Spirit  from  me.'  And, 
again,  '  Search  me,  O  Lord,  and  know  my  heart ;  try 
me,  and  know  my  thoughts ;  and  see  if  there  be  any 
wicked  way  in  me,  and  lead  me  in  the  way  ever- 
lasting.' 


II 


A  QUESTION  ABOUT  TRIBUTE  MONEY — A  LESSON  ON  THE 
RESURRECTION  LIFE  —  JESUS'  STERNNESS  AND  HIS 
PITY  —  A  POOR  WIDOW  AND  HER  OFFERING  —  THE 
INQUIRING    GREEKS JESUS    LEAVES    THE   TEMPLE 

Tuesday's  sun  had  not  yet  begun  to  go  down  and  Jesus 
still  lingered  in  the  Temple  Courts.  Humbled,  defeated, 
and  put  to  shame,  His  enemies  had  withdrawn,  but  only 
as  the  wild  beast  withdraws  for  a  time,  having  missed  its 
spring.  It  was  not  long  before  they  returned  to  the 
attack.  This  time,  however,  they  did  not  venture  to  face 
Him  themselves,  but  sent  a  band  of  their  younger  dis- 
ciples to  spy  upon  Him,  and  if  possible  to  entangle  Him 
in  His  talk. 

Accompanied  by  a  number  of  the  Herodians,  the  spies 
came  upon  Jesus  as  He  sat  resting  in  one  of  the  marble 
cloisters.  Concealing  their  deadly  purpose  under  the 
cloak  of  much  outward  deference  and  respect,  they  asked 
Him  to  help  them  solve  a  very  puzzling  and  difficult 
question.  They  knew,  they  said,  how  brave  and  fearless 
He  was,  and  how  little  He  cared  for  public  opinion. 
Would  He  help  them  to  decide  whether  it  were  lawful 
to  pay  tribute  to  the  Roman  Emperor  or  not  ? 

It  seemed  an  innocent  question,  but  it  was  really  a 
very  cunning  one.  As  we  have  already  seen,  the  Jews 
bitterly  resented  being  in  bondage  to  the  hated  Roman,^ 


THE  TRIBUTE  MONEY  325 

and  one  of  their  most  cherished  beliefs  was  that  when  the 
Christ  came  one  of  His  first  acts  would  be  to  free  them 
from  tlie  foreign  yoke  under  which  they  groaned.  Should 
Jesus — so  argued  the  spies — say  the  tax  ought  to  be  paid, 
He  would  put  Himself  hopelessly  in  the  wrong  with  the 
people — especially  with  His  own  wild,  freedom -loving 
people  of  Galilee — and  they  would  cease  to  believe  in 
Him.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  He  said  the  tax  should  be 
resisted,  it  would  be  easy  to  report  His  words  to  the 
authorities  and  then  He  would  be  seized  and  punished 
as  a  rebel.  Yes,  it  was  a  very  cunning  question;  the 
more  they  turned  it  over  in  their  minds  the  more  im- 
possible it  seemed  that  Jesus  could  answer  it  without 
injury  to  Himself. 

But  the  clear  eyes  that  met  their  own  could  pierce 
through  every  disguise.  Jesus  saw  the  hook  beneath  the 
bait ;  He  read  the  deadly  purpose  that  underlay  the 
innocent  inquiry.  'Why  tempt  ye  me,  actors,  wearers 
of  a  mask  ? '  He  said.    '  Show  me  the  tribute  money.' 

Now  no  self-respecting  Pharisee  would  carry  a  heathen 
coin  in  his  girdle,  but  a  silver  denarius  is  soon  fetched 
from  the  table  of  one  of  the  money-changers.  Taking  it 
in  His  hand  Jesus  holds  it  up  for  all  to  see,  '  Whose  is 
this  image  and  superscription  ? '  He  asks,  pointing  to  the 
Emperor's  head  and  the  legend  running  round  the  coin's 
silver  rim.  With  an  uneasy  glance  at  one  another,  they 
answer,  'Csesar's.'  Then,  like  a  lightning  flash,  comes 
Jesus'  reply,  '  Render  therefore  unto  Ceesar  the  things 
which  are  Caesar's,  and  to  God  the  things  that  are  God's.' 

There  was  a  Jewish  proverb  current  in  our  Lord's 
time  which  said,  '  Wherever  a  king's  coin  is  current,  in 
that  country  he  is  counted  king  of  the  land,'  and  Jesus 
adopts  its  teaching,  and  turns  it  to  account. 

It  was  as  though  He  said,  '  By  the  very  fact  of  your 


326  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

using  Ceesar's  money  you  acknowledge  Caesar  as  your 
protector  and  that  you  owe  him  fealty.  Therefore  "give 
back"  what  you  owe  to  him.  It  is  only  a  matter  of 
common  honesty.  But  at  the  same  time,  while  satisfying 
Csesar's  claims,  do  not  forget  to  satisfy  the  claims  of 
God.  The  coin  belongs  to  Cassar  for  it  has  his  head 
upon  it ;  you  belong  to  God,  for  having  been  made  in 
His  image  you  bear  the  stamp  of  the  King  of  Kings. 
Give  back  Cassar  his  silver,  but  give  God  back — your- 
selves.' 

As  Jesus  spoke,  His  words  went  home.  Silently,  with 
downcast  faces,  the  young  men  departed.  Their  plot  had 
failed,  and  in  their  hearts  anger  fought  with  shame. 

Soon  after  this  a  company  of  Sadducees  drew  near 
to  question  Jesus  in  turn.  These  people  were  the  sceptics 
of  their  age.  Tliey  taught  that  there  was  no  life  beyond 
the  grave,  and  neither  angel  nor  spirit  in  the  unseen  world. 
The  question  they  put  had  to  do  with  the  relationship 
which  people  will  bear  to  one  another  after  death, 
granted  that  a  future  life  existed.  If  a  woman  had 
seven  husbands  one  after  another,  whose  Avife  should 
she  be  at  the  Resurrection  ?  they  asked.  In  reply  Jesus 
told  them  that  it  was  not  possible  to  draw  comparisons 
between  earthly  and  Heavenly  relationships.  On  earth 
the  ties  that  bind  us  to  one  another  are  easily  broken ; 
friendship  is  turned  to  forgetfulness,  love  grows  dim  and 
fades  and  dies,  but  it  is  all  so  different  in  Heaven.  On 
earth  we  grasp  the  shadow — 

'  In  Heaven  avc  have  the  real  and  true  and  sure. 
'Tis  there  they  neither  marry  nor  are  given 
In  marriage,  but  are  as  the  angels.' 

That  was  His  answer  to  the  foolish  question  they  had 
asked   Him.     With   regard   to   the  resurrection   of  the 


THE  GREAT  COMMANDMENT  327 

dead  and  the  life  beyond  the  grave,  they  professed  to 
believe  Moses'  teaching,  did  they  not  remember  how 
Moses  had  spoken  of  God  as  the  God  of  Abraham  and 
Isaac  and  Jacob?  When  Moses  used  these  words  the 
patriarchs  had  long  been  laid  to  rest  in  their  rock-built 
tombs.  Did  he  mean  that  God  was  the  God  of  '  a  little 
handful  of  unlovely  dust,'  or  even  the  God  of  men  who 
had  trusted  in  Him  during  life,  but  now  that  they  were 
dead  could  trust  in  Him  no  longer  ?  Surely  that  could 
not  have  been  Moses'  meaning.  No,  he  meant  that  God 
was  the  patriarchs'  God  to-day  ;  that  they  still  lived,  that 
God's  protecting  care  was  still  around  them  and  would 
enfold  them  always.  God  was  not  the  God  of  the  dead 
but  of  the  living,  'for  all  live  unto  Him.' 

When  the  Sadducees  heard  these  words,  they  were 
like  men  gagged,  and  could  find  nothing  to  answer. 
There  were  a  number  of  Scribes  standing  by  listening  to 
Jesus'  teaching,  and,  as  He  spoke,  they  could  not  help 
exclaiming,  'Master,  Thou  hast  beautifully  said.' 

Then  one  of  them,  a  man  learned  in  tlie  law,  stepped 
forward  and  asked  Jesus  a  question  on  his  own  account, 
to  'tempt'  or  try  His  powers  still  further.  '  Which  is 
the  great  commandment  in  the  law  ? '  he  said. 

The  schools  of  the  Rabbis  were  always  making  fresh 
laws,  and  laying  down  new  rules  and  regulations  for  the 
service  and  worship  of  God,  and  so  numerous  in  time  had 
these  become  that  it  was  quite  impossible  to  keep  them 
all.  People  therefore  had  begun  to  question  which  laws 
ought  to  be  kept  in  preference  to  others ;  and  to  ask 
which  were  the  most  important  and  the  most  binding. 
In  reply  some  teachers  said, '  the  law  about  tassels,'  others 
'  the  law  about  phylacteries,'  but  no  one  seemed  able  to 
decide.  Jesus  answered  them  the  crown  and  flower  of 
all  God's  commandments  was — Love.     *  Love  God  with 


328  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

all  your  heart,  and  with  all  your  soul,  and  with  all  your 
might,  and  love  your  neighbour  as  yourself.'  That  was 
the  sum  of  all  true  religion.  Love  alone  was  the  key  to 
a  holy  life,  it  was  the  Heavenly  talisman  that  turned  all 
it  touched  to  gold.  As  Jesus  spoke  the  Scribe's  face 
lightened  with  enthusiasm.  How  right  Jesus  was ! 
Here  was  a  Teacher  come  from  God  indeed.  '  Master,' 
he  cried  eagerly  yet  with  softened  voice,  '  Thou  hast 
said  the  truth  rightly  ;  for  there  is  but  one  God ;  and 
there  is  none  other  but  He,  and  to  love  Him  with  all  the 
heart,  and  with  all  the  understanding,  and  with  all  the 
soul,  and  with  all  the  strength,  and  to  love  his  neighbour 
as  himself,  is  more  than  all  the  whole  burnt  offerings 
and  sacrifices.'  And  when  Jesus  heard  these  words  He 
knew  they  had  come  from  'an  honest  and  good  heart,' 
and  He  was  glad  and  said,  '  Thou  art  not  far  from  the 
Kingdom  of  God.' 

And  now,  having  answered  all  the  questions  that  had 
been  addressed  to  Him,  Jesus  turned  to  those  who  stood 
around  Him  and  put  a  question  to  them  in  turn,  a 
solemn,  searching  question  which  has  never  ceased  to 
ring  in  men's  ears  all  down  the  ages,  and  still  remains 
to-day  the  great  question  by  which  men  stand  or  fall — 
'What  think  ye  of  Christ,  whose  Son  is  He?'  Who 
was  the  Messiah  ?  What  was  His  mission  ?  from  whence 
should  He  come?  in  what  relation  would  He  stand  to 
the  world  ?  Was  He  simply  a  Prince  in  the  line  of  the 
ancient  Jewish  Kings — a  good  man — a  wise  teacher — and 
nothing  more  ? 

The  answer  that  comes  shows  that  this  was  indeed 
the  only  way  His  hearers  had  learned  to  look  upon  the 
Christ.  'He  is  the  Son  of  David,'  they  said.  —  Jesus 
answered  that  He  was  the  Son  of  God. 

Yes,  this  was  David's  own  verdict.     He  himself  had 


JESUS  REBUKES  HIS  ENEMIES  329 

written  of  Him,  '  The  Lord  said  unto  my  Lord,  Sit  Thou 
on  ]My  right  hand,  till  I  make  Thine  enemies  Thy  foot- 
stool ? '  If  David  then  had  called  Christ  Lord,  how  could 
He  be  his  son  ? 

By  this  time  the  rays  of  the  westering  sun,  shining 
through  the  Temple  Courts,  had  begun  to  turn  to  red 
the  gilding  of  the  marble  pillars,  and  to  paint  long 
shadows  in  dusky  purple  upon  the  tesselated  floors.  The 
time  was  drawing  on  when  Jesus  must  leave  the  shelter 
of  God's  beautiful  house. 

But  before  He  went  there  remained  a  stern,  sad  duty 
to  perform.  As  God's  Son  He  had  a  judgment  to  pro- 
nounce against  God's  enemies — those  wicked  rulers,  those 
false  teachers,  those  blind  guides  in  whose  hands  God  had 
placed  the  religious  training  of  the  nation,  and  who  had 
so  shamefully  abused  their  trust.  As  they  had  sinned 
openly  so  their  wickedness  must  openly  be  proclaimed. 

Standing  forth  before  all  the  people,  'His  feet  upon 
the  pavement  of  the  Temple,  but  speaking  as  from  the 
throne  in  Heaven,'  Jesus  pronounces  an  eightfold  woe 
against  painted  Pharisee,  and  smooth-tongued  lawyer, 
against  hypocritical  chief  priest,  and  deceitful  Scribe,  and 
all  the  rest  of  the  wicked  crew.  As  He  speaks  a  sharp 
sword  seems  to  issue  from  between  His  lips.  He  de- 
nounces them  for  their  hypocrisy,  their  love  for  the  praise 
of  men,  their  oppression  of  the  poor,  their  pride,  their 
vanity,  their  party  spirit,  their  covetousness  and  greed. 
Never  before  had  the  Temple  Courts  rung  to  such  burning, 
fiery  words.  The  people  as  they  hsten  glance  at  one 
another  in  frightened  amazement,  while  Scribe  and 
Pharisee  shrink  before  Him,  the  red  light  of  hate 
deepening  in  their  eyes,  like  wild  beasts  roused  to  fury 
and  yet  afraid  to  spring.  There  is  a  holy  anger  which 
comes  from  the  sight  of  cruel  deeds,  acts  of  oppression, 


330  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

insults  offered  to  God.  Jesus'  anger  was  like  that.  It 
did  not  arise  because  of  injuries  done  to  Himself;  it  was 
an  anger  felt  against  the  wickedness  which  took  advan- 
tage of  the  weak,  that  trod  down  the  helpless,  that 
mocked  at  a  long-suffering  God. 

And  yet,  let  the  flame  of  anger  leap  never  so  high  in 
Jesus'  heart,  the  angel  of  pity  was  ever  at  hand  to  quench 
its  fierceness.  In  the  very  midst  of  His  stern  denuncia- 
tions His  voice  begins  to  falter.  Oh,  how  sad  it  all  was, 
all  this  sin  and  wrongdoing  and  rebellion,  when  God 
meant  it  to  be  so  different !  If  only  His  people  would 
have  listened  to  His  message ;  if  only  they  would  have 
allowed  Him  to  save  them  as  He  so  longed  to  do !  He 
had  called  them  all,  Scribe  and  Pharisee,  publican  and 
sinner  alike,  into  His  fold,  even  as  the  hen  calls  her  brood 
together  beneath  her  sheltering  wings  when  the  cruel  hawk 
circles  in  the  blue  overhead,  but  they  would  not  come. 
Now  it  was  too  late !  '  O  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem  .  .  . 
how  often  would  I  have  gathered  thy  children  together, 
even  as  a  hen  gathereth  her  chickens  under  her  wings, 
and  ye  would  not.  Behold  your  house  is  left  unto  you 
desolate.  For  I  say  unto  you  that  ye  shall  not  see  Me 
henceforth,  till  ye  shall  say,  Blessed  is  He  that  cometh 
in  the  name  of  the  Lord.' 

With  these  sad,  pathetic  words  upon  His  lips,  Jesus 
rose  and  passed  out  into  the  Court  of  the  Women.  While 
He  sat  resting  here,  weary  and  sad  at  heart,  a  beautiful 
little  incident  happened  which,  as  some  one  says,  stands 
out  amid  the  events  of  the  day  '  like  a  rose  amid  a  field 
of  thistles.' 

Ranged  about  a  sort  of  corridor  in  the  court  stood 
thirteen  great  brazen  chests,  called  '  Trumpets '  (perhaps 
because  of  their  trumpet-shaped  mouths)  into  which  the 
Temple  worshippers  used  to  drop  their  offerings  for  the 


THE  WIDOW'S  MITE  331 

support  of  the  Temple  services,  the  decoration  of  the 
building,  and  the  rehef  of  the  poor. 

The  court  that  afternoon  was  full  of  worshippers,  and 
mingled  with  the  sound  of  moving  feet  and  the  hum  of 
voices  came  the  chink  of  gold  and  silver  coins  billing  into 
the  chests.  Presently  Jesus  saw  a  woman  timidly  making 
her  way  through  the  respectable,  well-dressed  crowd. 
St.  Mark  describes  her  condition  in  three  words — '  poor — 
alone — a  widow.'  In  her  hand  she  held  two  little  copper 
coins,  each  smaller  than  one  farthing — all  the  money  she 
had  in  the  world.  Standing  in  front  of  one  of  the  larger 
chests,  she  drops  in  both  her  copper  pieces  quite  simply, 
and  goes  on  her  way,  unconscious  that  she  has  done 
anything  at  all  remarkable,  thinking  herself  quite  un- 
noticed. 

And  she  was  unnoticed  by  the  crowd ;  only  One  saw 
the  beautiful  action,  and  that  was  Jesus.  Nothing  ever 
escaped  His  eye.  Sitting  over  against  the  treasury  He 
noticed  everything,  He  understood  all.  Calling  His 
disciples  He  bids  them  notice  the  splendid  gifts  of  the 
rich,  and  then,  pointing  to  the  poor  widow,  He  says  that 
her  humble  offering  has  outweighed  them  all. 

It  seemed  a  strange  thing  to  say.  What !  two  little 
copper  pieces  worth  all  the  gold  and  silver  that  choked 
the  trumpet  chests  to  overflowing !  AVhy,  how  far  would 
such  an  offering  go  towards  the  support  of  the  Temple 
services  ?  How  many  pounds  of  incense  would  it  buy  ? 
How  much  gilding  for  the  marble  pillars,  or  oil  for  the 
golden  lamps  ? 

Ah,  but  the  same  things  weigh  differently  in  the 
scales  of  the  world  and  the  scales  of  God !  The  world 
judges  a  gift  by  its  size ;  it  asks  what  is  the  market  value 
of  this  or  that  action  ;  what  profit  is  it  likely  to  bring  ? 
God  looks  at  the  spirit  of  the  gift ;  He  judges  of  an  action 


332  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

by  the  motive  that  lies  behind  it.  According  as  this  is 
good  or  bad  so  He  accepts  the  offering  men  make  Him, 
or  else  rejects  it. 

They  tell  an  old  story  about  one  of  the  Emperors  of 
Rome,  Justinian  by  name.  He  built  a  beautiful  church 
but  would  allow  no  one  to  help  him,  because  he  wished 
to  have  all  the  glory  and  praise  himself  When  it  was 
finished  he  put  up  a  great  tablet  with  an  inscription  saying 
that  the  church  had  been  built  by  himself  alone. 

The  next  morning  the  name  on  the  tablet  was  found 
to  be  altered,  and  the  name  of  Euphrasia  shone  there  in 
silver  letters  instead  of  Justinian.  Inquiry  was  made 
everywhere  for  Euphrasia  among  the  great  and  noble,  but 
without  success.  At  last  a  priest  reported  that  he  knew 
of  a  poor  woman  of  that  name,  and  she  was  sent  for 
and  asked  whether  she  had  dared  to  meddle  with  the 
Emperor's  work.  Then  the  poor  woman  made  this 
answer.  She  said  that  she  had  been  ill  for  three  months, 
and  that  every  day  during  her  illness  a  linnet  had  come 
and  sung  at  her  window  ;  and  she  was  so  grateful  to  God 
for  having  sent  the  little  singing-bird  to  cheer  her,  that 
she  longed  to  do  something  to  show  her  gratitude.  So 
when  she  got  well  again,  having  noticed  how  the  oxen 
slipped  as  they  drew  the  heavy  stones  for  the  building  of 
the  church  up  the  steep  hill  by  her  house,  she  pulled  a 
little  straw  from  her  mattress,  and  laid  it  on  the  road, 
so  as  to  make  their  work  easier  for  them.  Then  the 
Emperor  knew  that  her  gift  was  accepted  because  it 
was  done  for  the  love  of  God,  while  his  own  was  refused, 
because  it  was  given  in  pride,  and  for  his  own  glory. 

Dear  child,  it  was  just  so  that  Jesus  judged  of  the  gift 
of  the  two  mites.  It  was  like  the  gift  of  the  straw  in  the 
story,  a  poor  meagre  offering  in  itself,  and  yet  splendid 
because  of  the  love  and  self-sacrifice  which  lay  behind  it. 


THE  ENQUIRING  GREEKS  333 

Those  little,  common,  copper  coins  shone  in  Jesus'  eyes 
far  more  brightly  than  all  the  gold  and  silver  in  the 
treasury,  just  because  they  were  the  gift  of  a  loving, 
grateful  heart. 

Others  gave  of  what  cost  them  nothing — she  cast  in 
all  the  living  that  she  had. 

As  Jesus  passed  out  into  the  Court  of  the  Gentiles, 
He  was  told  that  certain  strangers  craved  an  audience 
with  Him.  They  were  Greeks,  converts  to  the  Jewish 
religion,  who  had  come  up  to  keep  the  feast,  perhaps 
from  one  of  the  half-heathen  cities  of  Decapolis,  perhaps 
from  '  the  sunny  land  of  music  and  of  song,'  Greece  itself. 

Doubtless  they  had  heard  of  Jesus'  triumphal  entry 
into  Jerusalem,  of  the  raising  of  Lazarus,  and  of  His  other 
wonderful  works,  and  they  were  filled  with  longing  to 
behold  so  great  a  Teacher.  And  so  they  came  to  Philip, 
'  the  one  apostle  with  a  Greek  name,'  with  the  request, 
'  Sir,  we  would  see  Jesus.' 

St.  Philip  was  uncertain  what  to  do.  Jesus  had 
already  told  His  disciples  that  He  was  not  sent  but  unto 
the  lost  sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel.  He  might  not  be 
willing  to  receive  these  men  of  an  alien  race.  So  he  puts 
the  question  to  St.  Andrew,  and  St.  Andrew,  eager  to  act 
the  missionary's  part,  at  once  carries  the  request  of  the 
strangers  to  Jesus,  and  no  doubt  shortly  afterwards  leads 
them  into  His  presence. 

In  the  coming  of  these  Greeks  Jesus  saw  the  promise 
of  the  spread  of  His  Kingdom  among  the  nations  of  the 
world.  Wise  men  from  the  East  had  already  sought  His 
cradle,  now  these  strangers  from  the  West  had  come  to 
group  themselves  around  His  Cross.  They  had  arrived. 
He  tells  them,  just  in  time  to  see  His  glory.  The  Cross, 
beneath  whose  shadow  they  were  even  now  standing,  was 
to  be  the  throne  from  which  He  should  reign.     In  nature 


334  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

death  was  often  the  gate  of  hfe.  A  grain  of  corn  remains 
fruitless  unless  sown  in  the  furrow.  Sow  it,  let  it  die,  as 
it  were,  in  the  ground,  and  it  becomes  in  time  the  mother 
of  many  a  golden  harvest. 

So  with  Himself.  He  must  die,  but  from  His  death 
would  issue  life ;  after  the  sowing  would  come  the  harvest ; 
by  the  seeming  defeat  of  the  Cross  the  world  would  yet 
be  won  for  God.  Even  as  He  spoke,  however,  a  shudder 
passed  over  Jesus ;  the  thought  of  the  burden  that  He 
was  so  soon  to  bear  on  the  Cross — the  awful  burden  of 
man's  sin — drew  from  Him  a  cry  of  agony.  '  Now  is  My 
soul  troubled ;  and  what  shall  I  say  ?  Father,  save  Me 
from  this  hour :  but  for  this  cause  came  I  unto  this  hour. 
Father,  glorify  Thy  Name.'  And  even  as  He  spoke  a 
voice  pealed  from  Heaven— the  same  dread  Voice  which 
had  spoken  at  His  Baptism  and  Transfiguration,  '  I  have 
both  glorified  it,  and  will  glorify  it  again.' 

There  were  deaf  ears  in  the  crowd  around  Jesus.  At 
the  sound  of  the  voice  some  cried  out  that  it  thundered  ; 
others,  whose  ears  were  more  attuned  to  Heavenly  things, 
declared  that  an  angel  had  spoken  to  Jesus.  Jesus  told 
them  that  the  voice  had  come  not  for  His  sake,  but  for 
their  own.  The  judgment  of  the  world  was  near  at  hand, 
the  power  of  the  prince  of  the  world,  the  devil,  should 
soon  be  broken.  'And  I,  if  so  be  that  I  be  lifted  up  from 
the  earth,  will  draw  all  men  unto  Me.' 

As  the  people  listened  to  these  strange  words  they 
understood  that  Jesus  was  speaking  to  them  of  His  death, 
and  that  the  lifting  up  of  which  He  spoke  was  the  lifting 
up  of  the  Cross.  They  therefore  began  to  murmur. 
How  could  He  be  the  Christ  if  He  were  about  to  suffer, 
and  to  die  a  death  of  shame  ?  They  could  not  under- 
stand Him. 

Jesus  did  not  try  to  explain  His  words  to  them ;  the 


JESUS  LEAVES  THE  TEMPLE  335 

time  for  teaching  had  now  gone  by.  As  He  turned  to 
go  He  just  made  one  last,  earnest,  sad  appeal  to  win  them 
to  His  side.  '  Yet  a  little  while  is  the  light  with  you. 
Walk  while  ye  have  the  light,  lest  darkness  come  upon 
you.  .  .  .  While  ye  have  hght,  believe  in  the  light,  that 
ye  may  be  the  children  of  light.'  So  saying  He  left  the 
Temple :  and  the  sun  went  down. 


Ill 


THE    SECOND    COMING THE    PARABLES    OF   THE    WISE    AND 

FOOLISH     VIRGINS,     THE     TALENTS,     THE     SHEEP     AND 

THE     GOATS HOW    JUDAS     BETRAYED     HIS    MASTER 

HOW    THE    KING    GAVE    HIS    DISCIPLES   A    ROYAL    GIFT  , 

As  they  followed  Jesus  out  of  the  Temple,  the  disciples 
lingered  to  take  one  last  look  at  the  dazzling  glories  of 
God's  beautiful  House. 

'  Master,'  said  one  of  them  wistfully,  '  see  what 
manner  of  stones  and  what  buildings  are  here! ' 

Jesus  paused,  while  His  eyes  took  in  the  splendour  of 
the  scene  around  Him ;  the  spacious,  decorated  courts, 
rising  like  garden  terraces,  one  above  another,  the  cloisters 
with  their  clustered  columns  and  soaring  pinnacles ;  and, 
towering  high  above  all  the  other  buildings,  the  beautiful 
Sanctuary  itself,  built  of  great  milk-white  blocks  of 
marble  and  roofed  with  gold. 

'  Seest  thou  these  great  buildings  ? '  came  His  answer. 
'  There  shall  not  be  left  one  stone  upon  another,  that 
shall  not  be  thrown  down.' 

Perplexed  and  saddened  by  this  strange  saying,  the 
disciples  walked  on  in  silence.  In  silence  they  crossed  the 
valley  of  the  Cedron,  and  began  to  climb  the  slopes  of 
Olivet.  Arriving  at  the  mountain's  brow,  Jesus  sat  down 
to  rest  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  goodly  cedar-trees,  and 
His  disciples  grouped  themselves  around  Him. 

Though  the  sun  had  set,  the  western  horizon  was  still 


THE  SECOND  COMING  337 

aglow  with  light,  and  like  some  glorious  mountain,  with 
rugged  peaks  lifted  high  in  air,  the  piled  up  Temple 
buildings  massed  themselves  in  splendid  outline  against 
a  rose-red  sky. 

As  Jesus  sat  gazing  at  the  fair  scene  at  His  feet, 
anxious  voices  put  the  question,  '  Tell  us,  when  shall 
these  things  be,  and  what  shall  be  the  sign  of  Thy 
coming,  and  of  the  end  of  the  world  ? ' 

Jesus  did  not  always  reply  to  His  disciples'  questions 
directly.  It  was  His  way  to  answer  His  questioners  in 
such  a  fashion  as  to  teach  them  what  was  really  necessary 
for  them  to  learn,  and  not  simply  what  they  wanted  to 
know.  And  so  He  does  not  say  plainly  when  the  Temple 
should  fall,  or  what  the  sign  of  the  end  of  the  world 
should  be.  He  simply  tells  His  disciples  that  both  these 
events  are  drawing  on,  and  bids  them  prepare  for  their 
coming.  Her  enemies  should  encircle  Jerusalem  with  a 
ring  of  iron ;  the  flames  should  play  upon  her  palaces  and 
towers,  and  famine  and  pestilence  should  waste  her 
streets.  But  before  this  happened  many  things  must 
first  occur.  There  should  be  wars  and  rumours  of  wars  ; 
false  Christs  and  false  teachers  should  arise;  Christ's 
disciples  should  be  tempted,  scourged,  thrown  into 
dungeons,  and  brought  before  kings  and  magistrates 
for  His  Name's  sake.  Their  own  friends  would  turn 
against  them,  and  they  should  reap  the  scorn  and 
hatred  of  men.  Then,  when  the  Gospel  of  the 
Kingdom  had  been  fully  preached,  the  end  should 
come. 

As  regards  the  coming  of  that  still  more  terrible 
day  of  judgment,  the  Dies  Ir^e  or  great  Day  of  Wrath, 
when  the  sun  should  be  darkened  and  the  moon  should 
not  give  her  light,  and  the  stars  of  Heaven  should  fall, 
and  the  powers  that  be  in  Heaven  should  be  shaken,  it 

Y 


338  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

was  not  needful,  or  possible,  to  tell  the  exact  time  of  its 
approach. 

The  necessary  thing  was  to  live  in  readiness  for  it. 

Very  suddenly,  very  unexpectedly  would  that  Day 
appear.  The  world  would  be  going  on  its  way,  very 
much  as  in  the  days  of  Noah.  People  would  be  eating 
and  drinking,  and  buying  and  selling,  and  pleasuring  and 
sinning,  without  a  thought  of  the  coming  doom ;  when 
suddenly  the  sign  of  the  Son  of  Man  should  appear  in 
the  sky,  and  the  Son  of  Man  Himself  should  be  seen 
coming  in  the  clouds  of  Heaven,  in  power  and  great 
glory,  to  judge  the  world. 

'  Watch  therefore,'  adds  Jesus,  '  for  ye  know  not  what 
hour  your  Lord  doth  come.' 

To  press  home  this  need  of  watchfulness,  and  to  teach 
His  disciples  how  best  to  prepare  for  the  Great  Assize, 
Jesus  spoke  the  parables  of  the  wise  and  foolish  virgins 
and  the  talents. 

It  is  night;  the  stars  are  burning  in  the  purple  sky 
like  balls  of  fire ;  the  air  is  full  of  music  and  the  scent 
of  scattered  flowers.  There  is  a  twinkle  of  feet  and  a 
ripple  of  laughter,  as  a  joyous  band  of  maidens  pass  on 
their  way  to  meet  a  bridegroom  who  is  bringing  home  his 
bride.  They  are  decked  in  bridal  attire,  in  their  hands 
they  carry  myrtle  boughs  and  sprays  of  jessamine,  and 
they  hold  aloft  long  poles  on  which  bright  lamps  are 
slung.  But  the  bridegroom  is  slow  in  coming,  and  after 
long  waiting  the  maidens,  clustered  together  by  the  way- 
side, fall  asleep. 

Suddenly  the  silence  of  the  night  is  broken  by  a  cry, 
'  Behold,  the  bridegroom  cometh,  go  ye  out  to  meet  him,' 
and  in  a  moment  they  are  wide  awake,  and  busily  trim- 
ming their  lamps. 

But  of  the  ten  maidens  who  had  started  out  to  meet 


THE  WISE  AND  FOOLISH  VIRGINS     339 

the  bridegroom,  five  had  forgotten  to  put  oil  in  their 
vessels,  and  to  their  alarm  they  find  their  lamps  are 
beginning  to  flicker  and  to  go  out. 

'  Give  us  of  your  oil,'  they  cry  to  their  sisters,  '  for  our 
lamps  are  going  out.'  But  the  others  refuse.  '  Our  store 
is  not  enough  to  go  round,'  they  answer ;  '  better  go  and 
buy  oil  for  yourselves.'  And  off  run  the  forgetful  five 
to  seek  the  houses  of  '  them  that  sell.' 

Meanwhile,  with  the  flare  of  torches  and  the  music 
of  flute  and  cymbal,  the  bridal  procession  sweeps  by, 
and  the  wise  virgins  enter  with  the  bridegroom  into  the 
house  of  feasting — 'and  the  door  was  shut.'  Presently 
up  come  the  foolish  five,  all  breathless,  their  lamps  still 
unlighted,  and  begin  to  knock  at  the  closed  door. 

Faintly  to  their  listening  ear  comes  the  sound  of  the 
music  and  the  murmur  of  happy  voices  at  the  feast. 
'  Open  to  us ! '  they  cry.  Then,  as  they  stand  w^aiting 
with  beating  hearts,  a  voice  from  within  answers,  '  I  know 
you  not,'  and  we  see  them  turn  away  weeping.  The 
foolish  virgins  were  not  ready  when  the  bridegroom  came, 
and  so  they  were  shut  out  from  his  presence.  '  Take  care,' 
Jesus  seems  to  say,  '  that  it  be  not  so  with  you.  Have 
oil  in  your  lamps.  It  is  your  work  in  life,  as  My  light- 
bearers,  to  hold  aloft  the  lamp  of  a  holy  life  so  that  its 
light  may  be  seen  by  all  around  you.  Only  remember, 
you  cannot  shine  for  God  unless  God's  Holy  Spirit  pours 
the  oil  of  His  grace  into  your  hearts,  and  so  gives  you 
the  power  of  shining.  Learn  then  to  seek  for  His  grace ; 
be  watchful,  be  diligent  in  prayer,  keep  very  near  God. 
As  long  as  you  do  this  you  are  safe ;  directly  you  begin 
to  get  out  of  touch  with  God,  the  oil  of  His  grace  will 
cease  to  flow  into  your  hearts.  Then  your  light  will 
slowly  but  surely  flicker  out,  and  in  the  end  you  will  be 
shut  out  of  the  marriage  feast  of  Heaven.' 


340  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Having  thus  taught  the  need  of  keeping  the  heart 
with  all  diligence  as  a  preparation  for  His  coming,  Jesus 
went  on  to  teach  the  need  of  faithfulness  in  outward 
service. 

The  parable  of  the  talents  follows  on  the  same  lines  as 
the  parable  of  the  pounds.  We  have  the  master  going 
into  a  far  country.  We  have  the  good  servants  who 
trade  with  the  money  their  lord  intrusts  to  them,  and 
who  win  a  hearty  '  well-done '  on  his  return.  We  have 
the  slothful  servant  who  lets  his  lord's  money  lie  idle, 
and  is  punished  for  his  sloth  by  having  his  money  taken 
away  from  him.  The  chief  differences  are  these — in  the 
one  case  the  sum  lent  is  small,  in  the  other  large ;  in 
one  case  the  different  servants  have  the  same  sum  to 
start  with,  and  in  the  other  they  have  different  sums ; 
in  one  case  the  faithful  servants  differ  from  one  another 
in  the  amount  they  gain  ;  in  the  other  each  gains  exactly 
twice  as  much  as  he  had  at  the  beginning.  We  are  all, 
the  parable  reminds  us,  servants  of  an  absent  Master, 
who  has  intrusted  us  with  Heavenly  money  —  gifts, 
powers,  opportunities — which  must  be  used  to  His  glory, 
and  of  which  at  His  coming  again  we  shall  have  to 
render  an  account.  To  some  God  has  given  more  than 
others,  but  no  one  is  left  without  some  gift  which  can 
be  turned  to  useful  purpose. 

Now  in  the  Heavenly,  as  in  the  earthly  life,  there  is  a 
law  of  gain.  The  faithful  servant  in  the  parable  made 
good  use  of  his  lord's  money,  and  by  use  it  increased.  So 
it  is  with  the  Heavenly  gifts  and  opportunities.  The 
more  we  use  them,  the  more  by  use  they  will  multiply  and 
strengthen.  In  the  Heavenly,  as  in  the  earthly  life, 
there  is  a  law  of  loss.  The  slothful  servant  buried  his 
lord's  money  in  the  ground  and  it  was  taken  away  from 
him  in  the  end.     So  if  we  are  too  careless  or  too  slothful 


THE  SHEEP  AND  THE  GOATS    341 

to  use  the  powers  God  has  given  us,  we,  in  the  same  way, 
shall  end  by  losing  them  altogether. 

Be  diligent  then  in  turning  your  Master's  gifts  to 
account,  so  that,  at  His  coming,  you  may  have  something 
to  show  as  the  fruit  of  your  lives.  INIake  the  most  of 
your  opportunities  of  service.  Then  God,  if  you  are 
faithful,  will  reward  you  by  advancing  you  to  higher 
service  hereafter,  and  in  this  way  you  shall  enter  into  the 
joy  of  your  Lord. 

*  You  must  live  each  day  at  your  very  best; 
The  work  of  the  world  is  done  by  few  ; 
God  asks  that  a  part  be  done  by  you. 

'  Say  oft  of  the  years  as  they  pass  from  sight, 
"  This  is  life  with  its  golden  store  ; 
I  shall  have  it  once,  but  it  comes  no  more." 

'  Have  a  purpose,  and  do  with  your  utmost  might : 
You  will  finish  your  work  on  the  other  side, 
When  you  wake  in  His  likeness,  satisfied.' 

After  this  Jesus  drew  a  picture  of  Himself  as  a  King 
seated  on  the  throne  of  His  glory,  with  all  the  nations  of 
the  world  gathered  before  Him.  The  Day  of  Judgment 
has  come,  and  the  souls  of  men  are  being  weighed.  As 
the  earthly  shepherd  separates  the  black  goats  from  the 
fair  white  sheep,  so  He,  the  Heavenly  Shepherd,  separates 
the  bad  people  from  the  good.  The  good  are  called  to 
inherit  God's  Kingdom ;  the  evil  are  sent  away  into  ever- 
lasting punishment.  And  the  ground  of  the  separation 
is  a  very  simple  one.  It  all  comes  out  of  service  to  Him- 
self. '  I  was  hungered — tliirsty — a  stranger — naked — sick 
— in  prison  ;  and  ye  fed  Me — gave  Me  drink — clothed  Me 
— visited  and  came  unto  ]Me — or  else  did  none  of  these 
things.'  And  then  when  both  hosts  look  up  in  amaze- 
ment the  King  explains,  *  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it— or  did 


342  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

it  not  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  My  brethren,  ye  did 
it — or  did  it  not— to  Me.' 

By  this  picture  Jesus  meant  to  teach  the  disciples 
another  great  truth,  namely,  that  the  life  of  preparation 
for  His  coming  must  be  one  of  loving-kindness,  as  well  as 
of  inward  devotion  and  the  faithful  use  of  God's  gifts. 
God  wants  us  all  to  try  to  make  the  world  in  which  we 
live  a  happier  and  brighter  place  for  our  presence  in  it. 
Jesus'  disciples  must  always  be  on  the  look-out  for  oppor- 
tunities of  doing  little  acts  of  kindness  to  others ;  of 
easing  the  burdens  that  weary  shoulders  have  to  carry,  of 
helping  tired  feet  along  life's  sometimes  hard  and  rugged 
road.  Doing  this,  they  may  remember  for  their  comfort, 
that  the  King  counts  all  kindness  and  help  shown  to 
others  as  shown  to  Himself. 

Did  you  ever  hear  the  story  of  ^lartin  and  his  vision  ? 

He  was  a  poor  Russian  cobbler,  and  all  his  life  he 
wanted  to  see  Jesus.  One  night  he  dreamed  that  Jesus 
was  coming  to  see  him  the  next  day.  He  worked  in  a 
cellar,  the  windows  of  which  were  just  high  enough  to  let 
him  see  the  feet  of  those  who  passed  by. 

Rising  in  the  morning  he  began  to  work  at  his  shoes 
with  a  glad  heart,  saying  to  himself :  '  The  Lord  is  coming 
to  see  me  to-day,'  when  presently,  looking  up,  he  saw  a 
pair  of  feet  staggering  along.  Going  into  the  street  he 
found  a  poor  woman  who  had  been  wandering  about  all 
night,  and  who  had  a  sick  child  upon  her  shoulder. 
Moved  with  pity,  ^lartin  took  her  into  his  house  and 
gave  her  part  of  his  breakfast.  He  then  sat  down  to  his 
work  again,  wondering  when  the  Lord  would  come. 

About  midday  he  saw  another  pair  of  feet  moving 
along  very  slowly  and  painfully,  and  on  going  upstairs 
once  more  he  found  an  old  starving  beggar-man.  And 
Martin  took  him  down  and  shared  his  midday  meal  with 


JESUS  RESTS  AT  BETHANY  343 

him  and  sent  him  away.  And  the  day  was  half  gone,  and 
the  Lord  had  not  come. 

Then  in  the  evening  there  was  another  pair  of  feet 
which  seemed  to  belong  to  some  violent  person,  and  he 
went  up  and  saw  an  old  apple-woman  and  a  boy  in  hot  dis- 
pute, and  finding  they  too  were  hungry  he  took  them  both 
down  and  shared  his  supper  with  them,  and  then  he  went 
sadly  to  bed,  because  the  day  was  passed,  and  the  Lord 
had  not  come,  according  to  his  dream.  And  as  he  lay 
down  he  dreamed  again.  And  there  first  came  the  woman 
with  the  sick  child,  and  she  looked  at  him  in  his  sleep, 
and  said  :  '  Martin,  didst  thou  not  know  Me  ? '  And  the 
old  man  came,  and  the  apple-woman,  and  the  boy,  and 
they  each  said  :  '  Martin,  didst  thou  not  know  Me  ? ' 

And  then  JNIartin  saw  and  remembered.  '  Inasmuch 
as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  My 
brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  Me.' 

When  Jesus  had  finished  speaking  He  arose,  and  once 
more  followed  the  mountain-path  to  Bethany.  There  He 
remained  that  night  and  all  the  following  day,  calmly  pre- 
paring Himself  for  the  end  by  prayer,  and  enjoying  for 
the  last  time  the  fellowship  of  His  dearest  earthly  friends. 

But  while  Jesus  rested,  His  enemies  were  on  the  alert. 
Stung  to  madness  by  His  words  in  the  Temple,  the 
Council  held  a  hurried  meeting  in  the  house  of  Caiaphas, 
to  discuss  how  Jesus  could  best  be  seized  and  put  to 
death.  It  was  the  eve  of  the  Passover,  and,  to  avoid  any 
trouble  with  the  people,  they  decided  to  wait  till  the  feast 
was  over  and  the  pilgrims  had  gone  home,  before  making 
Jesus  prisoner. 

But  God  had  decided  otherwise.  The  time  had 
come ;  the  true  Paschal  Lamb  must  be  sacrificed  at  the 
Feast.  Even  while  the  chief  priests  argue,  there  is  a  knock 
at  the  door,  and  presently  a  cloaked  figure  is  ushered  into 


344  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

the  room.  His  hood  falls  back ;  the  light  shines  on  his 
face.    It  is  Judas. 

Poor,  wretched  Judas  I  For  many  a  long  day  past  his 
soul  has  been  the  battle-ground  upon  which  his  good  and 
evil  angel  have  fought  a  desperate  fight.  Now  the  con- 
test is  over.  The  evil  angel  has  conquered.  Judas  has 
come  to  sell  his  Lord. 

We  seem  to  see  him  as  he  stands  before  the  Council, 
his  head  thrust  a  little  forward,  his  long,  lean  fingers 
fumbling  at  the  strings  of  the  money-bag  at  his  side,  the 
red  glint  of  malice  in  his  shifting  eyes. 

'  What  will  ye  give  me  ? '  he  asks,  '  and  I  will  deliver 
Him  unto  you  ? ' — There  is  no  need  to  mention  Jesus' 
name. 

And  then  the  shameful  bargaining  begins.  The  chief 
priests  haggle  ;  they  beat  him  down,  until  at  last  he  con- 
sents to  take  thirty  pieces  of  silver  as  the  price  of  his 
Master's  blood.  Presently,  with  the  blood  money  in  his 
purse,  he  speeds  back  to  Bethany,  as  silent-footed  as  a 
wolf,  '  the  dark  design  of  murder  at  his  heart.' 

Thirty  pieces  of  silver  !  It  was  the  price  paid  in  olden 
times  in  compensation  for  a  slave  who  had  been  gored  to 
death  by  an  ox.  There  have  been  many  pitiful  bargains 
struck  in  the  history  of  the  world,  but  surely  none  so 
pitiful  as  this.  Esau's  birthright  bartered  away  for  a  basin 
of  red  soup,  Joseph  sold  by  his  brethren  to  be  a  bond- 
servant in  Egypt  for  a  handful  of  money;  the  secret  of  his 
strength  betrayed  by  Samson  in  exchange  for  the  smiles  of 
a  wicked  woman — what  are  all  these  bad  bargains  com- 
pared to  his  who,  for  thirty  pieces  of  silver,  sold  the  Pearl 
of  Great  Price,  Jesus  Christ  Himself,  and  with  Him  his 
own  peace  of  mind  and  hope  of  Heaven  ? 

It  was  now  Thursday,  'green  Thursday,'  as  it  was 
called,  the   day  before  the  Passover.     By  this   time  all 


THE  PASSOVER  FEAST  34.5 

Jerusalem  was  astir;  houses  were  being  searched  by 
candlelight  to  discover  any  traces  of  leaven  ;  the  Passover 
lambs  were  being  bought,  and  the  rooms  were  being 
prepared  for  the  coming  festival. 

Jesus  was  still  at  Bethany,  when  His  disciples  came  to 
Him  and  asked  Him  where  it  was  His  wish  to  eat  the 
Passover  supper. 

In  reply  He  bade  St.  Peter  and  St.  John  go  to 
Jerusalem,  and,  at  the  entrance  to  the  city,  they  should 
meet  a  man  carrying  a  pitcher  of  water.  Let  them  follow 
him,  and  say  to  the  master  of  the  house  into  which  he 
entered  :  '  The  Master  saith  unto  thee,  Where  is  the  guest 
chamber,  where  I  shall  eat  the  Passover  with  JNIy  dis- 
ciples ? '  Then  the  host — one  of  Jesus'  secret  disciples,  we 
may  suppose — would  show  them  a  large  upper-room  in 
his  house  ;  there  let  them  make  ready. 

And  so  St.  Peter  and  St.  John  start  off  at  sunset,  and 
find  everything  as  Jesus  had  said.  Together  they  get 
the  room  ready  ;  they  spread  the  table  ;  they  arrange  the 
couches ;  they  place  by  the  door  the  jars  of  water  for  the 
feet ;  and  when  all  is  in  order  and  the  feast  prepared,  with 
happy,  joyous  faces  they  await  the  coming  of  their  Lord. 

At  nightfall  He  comes  with  the  rest  of  the  disciples — 
the  traitor  Judas  among  them.  What  a  wonderful  look 
there  is  in  the  Master's  face  to-night,  how  radiant  and 
full  of  joy  it  is  ;  His  eyes  shine  like  stars,  so  brimful  are 
they  of  the  light  of  love  and  tenderness. 

Ah  !  He  is  about  to  give  His  disciples  a  most  wonder- 
ful gift.  How  can  He  help  rejoicing  when  He  thinks  of 
all  the  blessing  and  happiness  that  gift  will  mean  to  them  ? 
But  first  there  is  other  work  to  be  done.  As  the  disciples 
take  their  places  around  the  table,  signs  of  jealousy  and 
discontent  begin  to  show  themselves.  All  want  the  best 
seats  for  themselves  ;  moreover,  because  each  is  too  proud 


346  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

to  take  the  servant's  place  and  bathe  his  comrades'  feet, 
they  all  recline  at  table  unwashed.  Even  the  Master  Him- 
self, after  His  long,  weary  walk  in  the  dust,  has  no  one  to 
cool  His  hands  and  feet  in  water,  and  to  dry  them. 

Without  saying  a  word  Jesus  rises  from  His  place, 
and  while  all  look  on  wonderingly.  He  takes  oiF  His 
white  holiday  robe,  and  girding  Himself  with  a  towel, 
pours  water  into  a  basin  and  begins  to  wash  His  disciples' 
feet.  Ah  !  how  brows  redden  and  hearts  sink  with  shame 
as  the  Master  does  for  each,  what  each  was  too  proud  to  do 
even  for  the  Master. 

Poor  Peter  is  especially  remorseful.  '  Lord,  dost  Thou 
wash  my  feet  ? '  he  asks.  Jesus  answers :  '  What  I  do 
thou  knowest  not  now ;  but  thou  shalt  know  hereafter.' 
'  Thou  shalt  never  wash  my  feet,'  protests  Peter  indig- 
nantly. Jesus  knew  the  way  to  deal  with  Peter.  '  If  I 
wash  thee  not,  thou  hast  no  part  with  Me,'  He  answers 
gravely.  Peter  is  wounded  to  the  quick.  Repentant, 
shamed,  eager  all  at  once,  he  replies,  '  Lord,  not  my  feet 
only,  but  also  my  hands  and  my  head.'  Jesus  answered  : 
'  He  that  hath  been  bathed  needeth  not  save  to  wash 
his  feet,  but  is  clean  every  whit.' 

And  so  He  goes  from  one  to  the  other.  He  washes 
the  feet  of  St.  Andrew,  His  brave  missionary ;  He  washes 
the  feet  of  St.  John,  the  dear  disciple ;  He  washes  the 
feet  of  the  traitor  Judas.  Oh,  with  what  tender,  pitying 
touch  did  Jesus  bathe  those  unworthy  feet  that  were  so 
swift  to  shed  His  blood  !  Perhaps  even  now  Judas  might 
relent,  and  come  back  to  God  by  the  door  of  a  late 
repentance.  But  the  traitor  gives  no  sign,  and  Jesus 
turns  sadly  away. 

So  when  He  had  washed  His  disciples'  feet  and  had 
again  taken  His  place  at  the  table,  He  said,  '  Know  ye 
what  I  have  done  to  you  ?    Ye  call  Me  Master  and  Lord  : 


THE  TRAITOR  UNMASKED  347 

and  ye  say  well ;  for  so  I  am.  If  I  then,  your  Lord  and 
Master,  liave  washed  your  feet ;  ye  also  ought  to  wash 
one  another's  feet.  For  I  have  given  you  an  example, 
that  ye  should  do  as  I  have  done  to  you.' 

Dear  child,  the  best  teachers  are  always  those  who 
teach  not  only  by  their  words,  but  by  their  example  as 
well.  And  so  it  was  here.  Jesus  was  not  content  to  bid 
His  disciples  be  humble,  He  set  them  an  example  of 
humility.  By  serving  them  He  taught  them  the  beauty 
of  service,  by  forgetting  self  He  set  forth  the  beauty  of 
self-forgetfulness.  How  the  vision  of  their  INIaster,  girded 
about  with  a  towel,  would  rise  up  and  rebuke  them  after- 
wards, when  they  were  tempted  to  struggle  after  the  high 
place,  or  turn  aside  from  the  lowly  duty ! 

To  understand  what  follows,  we  must  suppose  that 
Judas  reclined  on  the  couch  just  above  Jesus,  while  at 
Jesus'  right  hand  rested  St.  John,  near  enough  to  his  Master 
to  whisper  in  His  ear,  and  lean  his  head  upon  His  breast. 

Thoughts  of  Judas'  treachery  had  begun  to  fill  the 
heart  of  ,Tesus  with  a  great  sadness.  As  they  were 
eating.  He  said,  '  Verily,  I  say  unto  you,  that  one  of  you 
shall  betray  Me.'  Silence  in  the  room.  We  seem  to  see 
by  the  lamplight  the  pale  faces  of  the  disciples  turned  on 
one  another,  '  doubting  of  whom  He  spake.'  Then  a 
chorus  of  voices  breaking  out — '  Lord,  is  it  I  ?  Lord,  is 
it  I  ?  Oh,  do  not  say  that  I — or  I — or  I  should  fall  so 
low  as  to  do  this  thing ! '  but  Jesus  only  answers  that  the 
traitor  is  present,  dipping  with  Him  in  the  dish.  '  Lord, 
who  is  it  ? '  It  is  St.  John  who  speaks,  urged  on  by 
Simon  Peter  to  ask  the  question.  Jesus  answers  in  a 
low  voice,  '  He  it  is,  to  whom  I  shall  give  a  sop,  when  I 
have  dipped  it.'  With  this.  He  dips  a  piece  of  bread  in 
the  Passover  dish  of  figs  and  raisins,  soaked  in  vinegar, 
and  gives  it  to  Judas. 


348  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

*  Master,  is  it  I  ? '  asks  the  traitor  half  fearfully,  half 
defiantly,  as  one  who  already  knows  the  answer  that  is 
coming.  Jesus  answers,  '  Thou  hast  said.'  Then  having 
received  the  sop, '  Satan,'  we  read,  '  entered  into  Judas,' 
and  at  Jesus'  bidding,  '  That  thou  doest,  do  quickly,'  he 
arose  and  immediately  went  out ;  and  it  was  night. 

Along  the  dark,  narrow  byways  speeds  the  traitor  to 
the  spot  where  the  enemies  of  Jesus  await  his  coming. 
He  treads  very  softly ;  you  cannot  even  hear  the  sound  of 
his  footfall  in  the  silent  streets.  Who  is  this  that  is  out 
so  late  ? 

'  It  is  a  wolf  runs  up  and  down. 
With  a  black  track  in  the  snow.' 

A  weight  seemed  lifted  from  Jesus'  heart  as  the  door 
closed  on  Judas,  and  the  old  look  of  peace  and  quiet  joy 
came  back.  '  Little  children,'  He  said,  and  His  words 
came  with  all  the  loving,  tender  rmg  of  a  mother's  voice, 
'  yet  a  little  while  I  am  with  you.  Ye  shall  seek  INIe : 
and  as  I  said  unto  the  Jews,  Whither  I  go,  ye  cannot 
come ;  so  now  I  say  to  you.  A  new  commandment  I 
give  unto  you,  That  ye  love  one  another ;  as  I  have 
loved  you,  that  ye  also  love  one  another.  By  this  shall 
all  men  know  that  ye  are  My  disciples,  if  ye  have  love 
one  to  another.' 

Then  seated  in  that  upper  chamber — the  first  Chris- 
tian Church — with  the  silvery  moonbeams  lighting  up 
the  long,  low  table — the  first  Christian  altar — Jesus  gave 
His  disciples  the  great  gift  of  the  Holy  Communion. 

We  have  seen  how  it  had  always  been  Jesus'  way 
to  take  the  common  things  of  earth  and  make  them 
glorious  by  His  touch.  So  now  He  takes  the  common 
bread  which  lies  before  Him  on  the  table,  and  having 
blessed  it.  He  says,  '  Take,  eat,  this  is  My  Body  which  is 


THE   I.ASr   SUPI'K: 


THE  KING'S  ROYAL  GIFT  349 

given  for  you.  Do  this  in  remembrance  of  Me.'  He 
takes  the  Passover  cup  of  wine,  and  raising  it  in  His 
hands  He  says  in  the  same  way,  '  Drink  ye  all  of  this ; 
for  this  is  INIy  Blood  of  the  New  Testament,  which 
is  shed  for  you  and  for  many  for  the  remission  of  sins. 
Do  this,  as  oft  as  ye  shall  drink  it,  in  remembrance 
of  Me.' 

Oh,  with  what  awe  and  holy  gladness  did  the  disciples 
do  as  Jesus  commanded !  They  did  not  ask,  Muth  the 
unbelieving  Jews  at  Capernaum,  '  How  can  this  man  give 
us  His  flesh  to  eat  ? '  In  simple  faith  they  just  took  Jesus 
at  His  word.  They  ate,  they  drank,  and  eating  and 
drinking  they  were  drawn  into  Heavenly  communion 
with  their  Lord.  Jesus,  '  The  Bread  of  Life,'  gave 
Himself  to  them  to  be  their  life.  Their  sinful  bodies 
were  made  clean  by  His  Body,  and  their  souls  washed  by 
His  most  precious  Blood. 

Such  was  the  beginning  of  the  great  Christian  festival 
of  the  Holy  Communion  which  was  ordained  to  take  the 
place  of  the  Jewish  Passover. 

Ever  since  that  day  Jesus'  service  has  been  the  chief 
service  of  the  Christian  Church. 

Dear  child,  how  good  God  is  I  When  Jesus  was 
here  on  earth,  only  a  few  out  of  very  many  were  able  to 
draw  near  to  Him  to  feel  His  cleansing,  healing  touch. 
But  when  He  broke  the  bread  and  poured  the  wine  the 
night  before  He  died,  He  opened  up  a  new  and  wonder- 
ful way  by  which  all  may  draw  near  to  Him,  and  He  may 
draw  near  to  all.  We  do  not  know  how  Jesus  comes  to 
us  in  Holy  Communion  ;  we  see  through  a  glass  darkly 
now ;  no  one  is  able  to  explain  to  us  the  mystery.  We 
just  do  what  the  disciples  did;  we  take  Jesus  at  His 
word,  and  we  find  His  promise  true,  '  Come  unto  INIe  all 
that  travail  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  refresh  you.' 


850  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

'  Lord,  let  us  come  to  Thee  again, 

Oft  as  we  see  Thy  Table  spread. 
And  tokens  of  Thy  dying  pain, 

The  wine  poured  out,  the  broken  bread  ! 
Bless,  bless,  O  Lord,  Thy  children's  prayer. 
That  they  may  come  and  find  Thee  there.' 

And  now  the  Sacred  Feast  is  at  an  end,  but,  before 
rising  from  table,  Jesus  lingers  to  speak  words  of  comfort 
and  encouragement  to  the  disciples,  whose  faith  and 
loyalty  are  soon  so  sorely  to  be  tried. 

'  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled  :  ye  beheve  in  God, 
believe  also  in  Me.  In  My  Father's  House  are  many 
mansions  :  if  it  were  not  so,  I  would  have  told  you.  I  go 
to  prepare  a  place  for  you  ...  I  am  the  Way,  the 
Truth,  and  the  Life  :  no  man  cometh  unto  the  Father, 
but  by  Me  ...  If  ye  love  Me,  keep  My  Command- 
ments. And  I  will  pray  the  Father,  and  He  shall  give 
you  another  Comforter,  that  He  may  abide  with  you  for 
ever  ...  I  will  not  leave  you  comfortless  :  I  will  come 
to  you.  .  .  .  Peace  I  leave  with  you.  My  peace  I  give  unto 
you  :  not  as  the  world  giveth,  give  I  unto  you.  Let  not 
your  heart  be  troubled,  neither  let  it  be  afraid.' 

So  Jesus  speaks,  and  at  His  words  the  doubts  and 
fears  of  the  disciples  vanish,  and  a  new  courage  fills  their 
hearts. 

Then,  having  sung  an  hymn — one  of  the  glad  Passover 
triumph  psalms — they  fared  out  together  into  the  starry 
night,  towards  Olivet. 


IV 


GETHSEMANE — THE     ARREST — JESUS     IN    THE    PALACE     OF 

CAIAPHAS HOW     ST.     PETER    DENIED     HIS     MASTER 

THE    FATE    OF   JUDAS 

The  moon  was  shining  brightly  in  the  empty  streets  as 
Jesus  and  His  disciples  passed  on  their  way  towards  the 
city  gate. 

As  they  went  Jesus  began  to  warn  the  apostles  that 
the  time  was  at  hand  when  they  all  would  forsake  Him. 
That  very  night  the  Good  Shepherd  should  be  smitten, 
and  the  sheep  should  be  scattered.  St.  Peter  felt  hurt  at 
Jesus'  warning  words.  What !  fail  or  turn  his  back  upon 
his  Master? — not  if  the  whole  world  turned  against  Him. 
Very  sad,  very  searching  was  the  look  that  Jesus  gave 
His  boastful,  self-confident  disciple.  '  Verily  I  say  unto 
thee,'  He  said,  '  that  this  day,  even  in  this  night,  before 
the  cock  crow  twice,  thou  shalt  deny  Me  thrice.' 

'  jNIaster,  I  would  die  first,'  protests  St,  Peter  earnestly, 
and  all  the  disciples  echo  his  words ;  '  JMaster,  we  would 
sooner  die.' 

They  were  now  nearing  the  Temple.  There,  high 
above  their  heads,  glittering  in  the  moonlight,  the  great 
golden  bunch  of  grapes  could  be  plainly  seen,  trailing  its 
clusters  over  the  Temple  porch.  It  was  perliaps  the 
sight  of  this  golden  vine  that  suggested  to  Jesus  the 
lovely  allegory  of  the  vine  and  its  branches.  '  I  am 
the  true  Vine,  and  My  Father  is  the  Husbandman  .  .  . 


352  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Abide  in  Me,  and  I  in  you.  As  the  branch  cannot  bear 
fruit  of  itself,  except  it  abide  in  the  vine :  no  more  can 
ye,  except  ye  abide  in  Me.  I  am  the  Vine,  ye  are  the 
branches.  .  .  .  Herein  is  My  Father  glorified,  that  ye  bear 
much  fruit;  so  shall  ye  be  My  disciples.'  After  this 
Jesus  spoke  of  the  day  of  suffering  and  sorrow  which  was 
coming,  and  of  the  great  gift  of  the  Comforter  whom  He 
should  send  from  the  Father  to  strengthen  and  bless 
them  and  to  guide  them  into  all  truth. 

Very  sweet  and  full  of  comfort  were  His  words,  and 
as  He  ended  His  discourse  there  was  a  ring  of  triumph 
in  His  voice.  *  These  things  I  have  spoken  unto  you, 
that  in  Me  ye  might  have  peace.  In  the  world  ye  shall 
have  tribulation  :  but  be  of  good  cheer  ;  I  have  overcome 
the  world.' 

The  Temple,  we  are  told,  was  open  at  midnight,  and 
it  was  perhaps  in  one  of  its  courts  that  Jesus,  with  plead- 
ing face  lifted  to  the  starry  sky,  offered  up  that  beautiful 
prayer  of  priestly  intercession  which  St.  John's  gospel  has 
preserved  for  us ;  in  which  He  prayed,  oh  so  tenderly,  for 
the  little,  lowly  band  of  followers  He  was  about  to  leave 
behind,  and  for  His  whole  Church  to  the  end  of  the  world. 
Long  and  earnestly  He  prayed — for  His  disciples  that  God 
would  keep  them  through  His  own  name,  and  sanctify 
and  preserve  them  from  all  evil — for  all  those  who  should 
believe  through  their  message,  that  they  all  might  be  one, 
so  that  by  their  unity  the  world  might  believe  that  God 
had  sent  Him. 

And  now,  His  prayer  at  an  end,  Jesus  left  the  Temple 
Court,  and  going  down  into  the  valley  of  the  Cedron, 
crossed  the  little  rusliing  brook  at  its  foot,  and  made  His 
way  towards  the  garden  of  Gethsemane. 

Gethsemane  was  a  place  very  dear  to  Jesus.  Often 
when  weary  of  treading  the  hot,  narrow,  crowded  streets 


GETHSEMANE  353 

of  Jerusalem,  He  would  turn  aside  to  seek  the  peace  and 
quiet  of  the  t^nuden  on  the  hill.  It  was  one  of  His 
favourite  places  ibr  prayer.  Again  and  again  the  morning 
star  would  find  Him  where  the  evening  star  had  left  Him, 
kneelinjr  beneath  the  silver  screen  of  the  olive-trees  whose 
shadows  lay  so  thickly  upon  the  spreading  turf. 

All  was  silence,  save  for  the  sound  of  the  Cedron's 
running  water  and  the  rustle  of  the  olive  branches.  The 
moon  lit  up  the  valley  with  her  mellow  light,  and  every 
rock  and  tree  stood  out  as  clearly  as  though  it  had  been 
day.  Leaving  the  rest  of  the  disciples  at  the  garden  gate, 
and  taking  with  Him  St.  Peter,  St.  James,  and  St.  John, 
Jesus  ])assed  in  beneath  the  trees  to  meet  the  most  awful 
hour  of  His  life. 

Presently  '  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful,  even  unto 
death,'  He  says  ;  '  tarry  ye  here  and  watch  while  I  go  and 
pray  yonder.'  Then,  while  His  disciples  stand  w^ondering 
and  looking  upon  one  another,  He  tears  Himself  away, 
and  with  bowed  head  and  faltering  step  passes  away 
among  the  shadows.  As  He  kneels,  still  darker  shadows 
gather  about  His  heart.  An  agony,  a  struggle  begins,  so 
awful  that  even  He,  who  never  flinched  from  the  most 
bitter  pain,  can  hardly  endure  it.  Drops  of  blood  start 
upon  His  forehead  and  fall  to  the  ground.  'O  31y 
Father,'  He  prays,  *  if  it  be  possible  let  this  cup  pass  from 
Me.     Nevei  theless,  not  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou  wdlt.' 

Dear  child,  what  was  this  mysterious  agony?  Was 
it  the  fear  of  to-morrow's  suffering  and  cruel  death  ?  Ah 
no !  to  think  that,  would  be  to  set  the  INIaster  below 
many  a  brave  disciple  who  afterwards,  for  His  sake,  faced 
the  flames  with  a  smile,  or  went  to  meet  the  lion's  spring, 
or  the  torture  of  the  rack,  'like  one  who  wraps  the 
dra])cry  of  his  couch  about  him,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant 
dreams.'     It  was  not  the  Cross  itself,  it  was  the  awful 


354  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

shadow  of  the  Cross  that  weighed  upon  Him  ;  it  was  the 
knowledge  that  He,  the  all-holy  Son  of  God,  must  bear 
upon  His  shoulders  the  sins  of  all  the  world.  Oh,  what 
a  sore  burden  that  was  to  carry !  We  sometimes  think 
lightly  about  sin  and  speak  lightly  about  it,  but  if  we 
want  to  see  what  sin  is  really  like,  we  have  only  to  think 
of  Jesus  in  the  garden.  His  beautiful  face  white  with 
sorrow,  the  blood-drops  upon  His  brow,  His  loving  heart 
strained  to  the  point  of  breaking.  It  was  sin  which  made 
Jesus  suffer  so  ;  your  sin  and  mine.  .  .  . 

Rising  from  His  knees,  Jesus  went  back  to  His  dis- 
ciples, hoping  to  find  comfort  and  support  from  their  love 
and  sympathy.  They  were  there  where  He  had  left  them ; 
the  moonlight  glittered  on  St.  Peter's  sword ;  it  fell  on 
the  upturned  face  of  St.  John  ;  it  touched  the  crouching 
figure  of  St.  James — they  were  fast  asleep. 

With  grieved  and  sorrowful  eyes  Jesus  stood  looking 
down  upon  His  friends. 

'  Simon,  sleepest  thou  ? '  He  said  to  St.  Peter.  '  Couldst 
thou  not  watch  with  Me  one  hour  ? — thou  so  full  of  brave 
promises  ;  thou,  who  a  little  ago,  wast  ready  to  lay  down 
thy  life  for  My  sake  ? '  Then,  as  the  disciples,  awakened 
by  the  sound  of  His  voice,  started  up  in  confusion.  He 
added  these  warning  words,  '  Watch  and  pray,  that  ye 
enter  not  into  temptation.' 

Again  Jesus  went  away  to  endure  his  awful  agony 
and  to  pray,  and  again,  coming  back.  He  found  His 
disciples  asleep,  for  their  eyes  were  heavy,  neither 
wist  they  what  to  answer  Him.  Oh,  if  they  had  only 
been  a  little  stronger !  By  keeping  faithful  watch  with 
their  Master  they  might  at  least  have  taken  one  little 
thorn  from  His  crown  of  thorns ;  while  by  earnest  prayer 
they  might  have  strengthened  their  own  hearts  against 
the  coming  peril.     But  they  missed  their  chance.     The 


THK   A(;0\V    IN     IHl-;   GARDF.X 


THE  ARREST  855 

time  they  might  have  used  in  helping  both  Him  and 
themselves  was  all  wasted.  And  now  for  the  third  time 
Jesus  went  away  to  fight  His  lonely  battle  in  the  dark, 
with  none  to  share  His  watch  or  help  lift  up  His  hands, 
as  Aaron  and  Hur  lifted  up  the  hands  of  INIoses  upon  the 
mountain. 

But  this  time,  at  the  battle's  close,  He  comes  forth 
victorious.  The  cup  is  not  to  pass  ;  He  must  drink  it  to 
the  dregs,  but  as  it  is  His  Father's  hand  that  holds  it 
out  to  Him  to  drink,  so  it  is  His  Father  who  gives  Him 
the  power  to  drink  it.  As  He  bows  Himself  in  His 
agony  beneath  the  olive-trees,  an  angel  is  seen  strength- 
ening Him.  Then  when  He  rises  there  is  no  faltering 
or  fear.  The  victory  has  been  won  ;  henceforth  the  King 
goes  forth  '  conquering  and  to  conquer.' 

As  He  returned  for  the  last  time  to  His  disciples, 
Jesus'  eye  caught  the  red  glare  of  torches  among  the  trees, 
and  He  knew  that  His  enemies,  with  Judas  at  their  head, 
were  closing  in  upon  Him.  The  time  for  watchfulness 
was  over.  'Rise,  let  us  be  going,'  He  said.  '  Behold,  he 
is  at  hand  that  doth  betray  Me.' 

Even  as  He  spoke,  a  band  of  men,  armed  with  swords 
and  cudgels,  and  carrying  torches,  broke  through  the  trees, 
and  began  to  search  the  garden.  Calmly  Jesus  stepped 
forth  and  confronted  them.  '  Whom  seek  ye  ? '  He  asked. 
As  He  spoke,  the  crowd  that  had  begun  to  gather  around 
Him  reeled  backward  and  fell  to  the  ground,  as  though 
they  had  seen  the  Angel  of  the  Agony  with  drawn  sword 
standing  at  His  side.  It  was  Jesus'  kingly  presence,  and 
the  clear,  brave  ring  of  His  voice  as  He  stood  there  un- 
armed and  unafraid,  that  filled  them  with  this  sudden 
panic. 

Then  Jesus  spoke  again,  telling  them  that  He  was  the 
Man   they  sought.      While   they   still   hesitated,   Judas 


356  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

stepped  forward  out  of  the  shadows,  fearful  lest  even  now 
Jesus  should  escape,  and  gave  the  soldiers  the  sign  which 
he  had  agreed  to  give  them.  '  Hail,  Master ! '  he  said  ; 
and  coming  up  to  Him  he  kissed  Him,  with  pretended 
warmth,  upon  the  cheek. 

Dear  child,  we  are  about  to  think  much  of  Jesus' 
sufferings,  the  insults,  the  mockery,  the  pains  which  He 
endured  on  His  way  to  the  Cross,  but  I  do  not  think  that 
any  insult  from  His  enemies,  or  any  pang  from  thorn- 
wreath  or  from  nail,  hurt  Jesus  as  much  as  that  kiss  of 
Judas — the  false  friend,  whom  He  had  tried  so  hard  to 
win  by  love,  the  ungrateful  disciple  whom  He  had 
shielded  and  excused  and  done  His  best  to  save.  And 
yet  He  uttered  no  reproaches.  *  Judas,'  He  said  sadly, 
'  betray  est  thou  the  Son  of  Man  with  a  kiss  ? '  That  was 
all.  Then  the  soldiers  closed  round  Him  and  began  to 
bind  Him. 

But  there  was  one  who  would  not  tamely  stand  by 
and  see  His  Master  bound.  In  an  instant  St.  Peter  is 
by  Jesus'  side.  '  Lord,  shall  we  smite  with  the  sword  ? ' 
he  cries  out  eagerly,  and,  without  waiting  for  an 
answer,  he  raises  his  weapon  and  strikes  at  one  of  the 
high  priest's  servants,  named  Malchus,  and  cuts  off  his 
ear.  But  Jesus  would  have  no  blood  shed  on  His  behalf. 
Turning  to  St.  Peter  He  bids  him  put  up  his  sword  into 
its  sheath.  It  was  His  will  to  drink  the  cup  His  Father 
pressed  to  His  lips.  In  any  case  He  had  no  need  of 
earthly  weapons.  One  word  of  prayer  to  His  Father, 
and  the  Heavens  would  be  white  with  angel  legions, 
and  a  myriad  angel  swords  would  flash  in  His  defence- 
Stretching  out  His  hand  Jesus  touched  the  ear  of  the 
wounded  man  and  healed  him.  And  now,  seeing  their 
Master  meekly  yielding  Himself  up  to  His  enemies, 
and  believing  all  to  be  lost,  the  disciples  broke   away 


JESUS  BEFORE  CAIAPHAS  357 

and  began  to  scatter  in  all  directions,  leaving  Jesus 
alone. 

Shortly  afterwards,  with  the  light  of  lanterns  and  the 
flare  of  torches,  He  is  borne  away  down  the  slope  of 
Olivet  back  to  Jerusalem. 

It  was  past  midnight  when  Jesus  and  His  escort 
reached  the  city.  Their  first  halting-place  was  at  the 
palace  of  the  high  priest  Annas,  the  father-in-law  of 
Caiaphas.  Annas  had  been  deposed  by  the  Romans 
in  favour  of  his  son-in-law,  but  the  Jews  still  con- 
sidered him  to  be  the  rightful  high  priest. 

After  feasting  his  eyes  upon  Jesus,  the  crafty,  white- 
haired,  bad-hearted  old  man,  for  so  he  was,  sent  him 
across  the  courtyard  to  Caiaphas,  where  Jesus  found  a 
gathering  of  priests  and  Sadducees  waiting  to  examine 
Him.  They  had  been  sitting  up  late  into  the  night  in 
the  hope  of  His  capture,  and  now  that  they  saw  Him  a 
prisoner,  and  in  their  power  at  last,  their  eyes  glistened 
and  their  faces  were  lighted  up  with  a  cruel  joy. 

With  His  arms  bound  behind  His  back,  Jesus  faced 
His  judges. 

The  first  question  put  to  Him  had  to  do  with  His 
disciples  and  His  teaching,  but  Jesus  refused  to  be 
entrapped  into  answering  it.  He  told  the  high  priest 
that  He  had  ever  spoken  openly  in  the  synagogue  and 
the  Temple.  If  an  account  of  His  teaching  was  wanted, 
let  His  judges  enquire  of  those  who  had  heard  Him  teach. 

Seeing  the  eyes  of  Caiaphas  flash  with  anger  at  this 
answer,  one  of  the  officers  who  stood  by  struck  Jesus  a 
cruel  blow  upon  the  face,  saying,  *  Answerest  Thou  the 
high  priest  so  ? '  It  was  a  vile  and  shameful  act,  this 
blow  aimed  at  a  defenceless  prisoner,  yet  no  one  cried 
shame  upon  it.  Jesus  Himself  showed  no  anger.  He 
was  ready  to  endure  insult,  not  to  avenge  it.     Turning 


358  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

His  sad  eyes  upon  the  coward  who  had  so  cruelly  struck 
Him,  He  said  gently,  '  If  I  have  spoken  evil,  bear  witness 
of  the  evil ;  but  if  well,  why  smitest  thou  Me  ? '  and  we 
seem  to  see  the  man's  hand  fall  to  his  side. 

A  band  of  false  witnesses  had  been  got  together  in  the 
palace,  to  help  swear  away  Jesus'  life.  Seeing  there  was 
little  hope  of  convicting  Him  out  of  His  own  mouth, 
they  were  now  brought  forward,  but  they  only  contra- 
dicted one  another.  At  last  two  false  witnesses  came 
forward  and  said,  '  This  fellow  said,  I  am  able  to  destroy 
the  Temple  of  God  and  to  build  it  in  three  days.' 

Jesus  had  said  something  quite  different  to  this,  but 
He  did  not  trouble  to  deny  the  charge.  'As  a  sheep 
before  her  shearers  is  dumb,  so  He  openeth  not  His 
mouth.' 

Stung  to  anger  by  Jesus'  continued  silence,  Caiaphas 
at  last  asked  sneeringly,  yet  half  fearfully  too,  '  Art  Thou 
the  Christ  ? '  Jesus  lifted  His  head  and  looked  him  in  the 
face.  '  Thou  hast  said,'  He  answered  ;  and  then  He  added, 
'  Hereafter  shall  ye  see  the  Son  of  Man  sitting  on  the  right 
hand  of  power,  and  coming  in  the  clouds  of  Heaven.' 

In  an  instant  all  is  confusion.  The  face  of  Caiaphas 
darkens ;  he  clutches  his  white  priestly  robe  at  the  neck 
and  tears  it,  making  the  rent  which  might  never  after- 
wards be  mended.  '  What  further  need  have  we  of 
witnesses  ? '  he  cries.  '  What  think  ye  ? '  and  from  the 
packed  benches  around  him  the  hoarse  murmur  swells, 
'  He  is  guilty  of  death.' 

Then  follows  a  scene  which  we  do  not  like  to  think 
about  or  picture  to  ourselves.  Leading  Jesus  into  the 
open  court,  and  from  thence  to  the  guard  room,  the 
brutal  mob  of  servants  and  hangers-on  at  the  palace  begin 
to  rain  blows  upon  Him,  bound  and  defenceless  as  He  is. 
They  take  a  rag  and  tie  it  over  His  eyes,  and  make  game 


ST.  PETER'S  DENIAL  359 

of  Him.  They  even  spit  in  His  face.  Dear  child,  tliink 
of  it !  That  beautiful  Face  which  the  angels  love  to  gaze 
upon  and  adore,  marked  with  the  vile  proofs  of  mans 
hatred  and  contempt.  Yes,  let  us  turn  our  heads  away. 
How  awful  to  think  that  sin  should  have  brought  the 
world  to  this. 

Meanwhile  there  was  another  trial  going  on  outside — 
the  trial  and  testing  of  Simon  Peter.  St.  Peter  and 
St.  John  had  not  dared  to  remain  at  their  Master's  side 
in  Gethsemane,  and  yet  their  love  for  Him  was  too  great 
to  allow  them  to  forsake  Him  altogether.  So,  while  the 
rest  of  the  disciples  fled  away,  they  returned  to  follow 
Jesus — though  afar  off. 

The  palace  which  Caiaphas  shared  with  Annas  stood 
on  the  hill  slope,  and  was  reached  through  an  open  court- 
yard which  in  its  turn  was  guarded  by  a  porch  with  an 
iron  gate.  As  the  guard  passed  in  through  the  gate  with 
their  prisoner,  St.  John  passed  in  as  well,  for  he  was 
known  to  the  high  priest  and  had  the  entry  of  the 
palace.  Looking  round  for  his  friend,  St.  John  found  he 
had  been  left  outside,  so  he  went  to  the  gate  and  spoke 
to  the  portress,  and  she  unbarred  the  gate  to  St.  Peter, 
and  let  him  in. 

The  night  was  chilly,  and  the  servants  and  the  guards 
were  gathered  round  a  brazier  of  burning  coal  which  had 
been  lighted  in  the  middle  of  the  court,  and  were  warming 
themselves.  Every  one  was  eagerly  discussing  the  capture 
of  Jesus,  and  St.  Peter  drew  near  to  listen.  He  was  sick 
at  heart  and  full  of  anxiety  for  his  jNIaster's  safety,  but  he 
was  among  enemies  and  must  try  to  appear  indifferent 
and  unconcerned.  Only  St.  Peter  was  not  a  good  actor. 
As  the  red  glare  of  the  fire  fell  upon  his  face,  one  of  the 
palace  maids,  the  same  maid  who  had  let  him  in,  could 
not  help  noticing  how  disturbed  and  anxious  he  looked. 


360  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

and  how  restless  he  seemed  to  be.  '  Art  not  thou  also  one 
of  this  Man's  disciples  ? '  she  asked  him  sharply.  Taken 
by  surprise — almost  before  he  knew  what  he  was  saying 
— St.  Peter  stammered  out,  *No,  I  am  not.'  Then,  as 
malicious,  inquiring  faces  began  to  be  turned  upon  him, 
he  shrank  away  from  the  tell-tale  firelight  and  went  back 
to  the  shadows  of  the  porch. 

But  there  was  to  be  no  escape  for  St  Peter  that 
night.  Following  him  into  the  porch  tlie  portress  again 
pointed  him  out  to  a  group  of  men  standing  at  the  door 
saying,  *  This  fellow  was  also  with  Jesus  of  Nazareth,'  and 
St.  Peter,  blustering  and  denying  that  he  ever  knew  Jesus, 
moves  back  to  the  fire  once  more,  determined  to  brazen 
the  matter  out. 

The  night  by  this  time  was  passing  into  the  morning. 
Faintly  in  the  distance  came  the  sound  of  cock  crowing. 
St.  Peter  heard  it,  but  he  did  not  remember  Jesus'  words  as 
yet.  There  before  the  fire  he  stood,  w^arming  his  hands 
at  the  ruddy  blaze  and  joining  in  the  servants'  talk  with 
pretended  cheerfulness.  But  the  words  of  the  maid  had 
made  them  suspicious.  They  began  to  tax  him  with 
being  a  follower  of  Jesus.  It  was  no  use  his  denying  it ; 
his  rough  voice  and  country  accent  proclaimed  him  from 
Galilee.  Worse  still,  a  man  from  among  the  crowd  steps 
forward  and  confronts  him.  '  I  saw  him  in  the  garden 
with  Jesus.  It  is  the  very  man  who  cut  off  the  ear  of  my 
kinsman  Malchus.' 

At  this,  terror  and  rage  fought  together  in  St.  Peter's 
heart ;  he  felt  that  he  w^as  trapped.  Breaking  out  into  a 
volley  of  curses,  he  cried,  '  I  know  not  the  JNlan.' 

Just  then  for  a  second  time  he  heard  the  cock  crow, 
and  Jesus'  words  rushed  to  his  mind.  He  turned,  and 
there  was  Jesus  Himself.  He  was  being  led  across  the 
courtyard ;  He  had  heard  every  word.     He  did  not  say 


ST.  PETER'S  DENIAL  361 

anything ;  He  just  gave  St.  Peter  a  look— such  a  sorrowful, 
grieved  look  it  was.  O  Peter  ! — that  was  all — but  it  went 
through  Peter's  heart  like  a  sword.  '  He  was  the  best 
friend  I  ever  had,  and  I  have  denied  and  deserted  Him 
just  as  He  said  I  would  do.'  And  with  tears  running 
down  his  cheeks,  Peter  rushes  out  into  the  night.  Only 
it  was  to  meet  the  morning,  as  some  one  has  said. 

In  the  early  dawn  of  the  new  day  a  new  life  began  for 
the  apostle  who  denied  his  Lord.  '  The  Angel  of  Inno- 
cence had  left  him,  but  the  Angel  of  Repentance  took 
him  by  the  hand.' 

St.  Clement  tells  us  that  to  the  day  of  his  death 
St.  Peter  never  forgot  that  awful  night.  Always  at  the 
hour  of  his  three-fold  denial,  when  the  cocks  began  to 
crow  in  the  valleys,  he  would  rise,  and,  humbly  kneeling 
upon  his  knees,  pour  out  his  heart  to  God  in  sorrow  for 
his  sin.  And  because  he  was  sorry  he  won  forgiveness. 
Thank  God,  because  we  fall,  there  is  no  reason  why  we 
should  not  rise  again.  And  St.  Peter  rose.  He  lived  to 
make  atonement  for  his  sin.  Jesus  gave  him  back  his 
place  among  the  apostles,  and  by  the  grace  of  God  he 
became  in  the  end  one  of  the  strongest  and  bravest 
characters  of  the  whole  Bible — 

'  The  pastoral  staff,  the  Keys  of  Heaven, 
To  wield  awhile  in  grey-haired  might, 
Then  from  his  cross  to  spring  forgiven. 
And  follow  Jesus  out  of  sight' 

And  now  for  a  moment  let  us  turn  to  the  false 
apostle  Judas.  When  the  first  streaks  of  the  dawn 
began  to  brighten  the  sky,  Jesus  was  once  more  dragged 
before  His  judges.  The  whole  council  of  the  Jews  by 
this  time  were  gathered  together  in  the  'Paved  Hall' 
of  the  Temple,  and  formal  sentence  of  death  was  pro- 
nounced against  Him. 


362  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Judas,  like  St.  Peter,  had  perhaps  been  in  the  palace 
courtyard,  skulking  among  the  shadows,  perhaps  he  had 
entered  with  St.  John  into  the  trial  chamber  itself  and 
had  seen  the  blow  struck  which  bruised  the  cheek  of 
Jesus,  and  the  buffeting  and  the  spitting  afterwards. 
Now  the  news  reaches  him  that  Jesus  has  been  con- 
demned to  death.  He  must  have  been  expecting  this, 
and  yet,  when  he  hears  the  news,  a  great  horror  seizes  him, 
he  begins  at  last  to  realise  what  he  has  done,  and  he  is 
like  a  man  distraught. 

There  is  a  picture  of  Cain  washing  his  bloodstained 
hands  after  the  murder  of  Abel.  As  he  bends  down  to 
look  into  the  water,  he  starts  back  in  horror,  seeing  the 
mark  of  murder  on  his  brow.  Just  in  the  same  way  as 
Judas  stooped  to  look  into  the  dark  waters  of  his  soul, 
God  showed  him  the  murder  mark  there,  and  the  sight 
appalled  him.  By  this  time  the  Temple  gates  were 
opened,  and  up  to  the  Temple,  haggard,  wild-eyed,  and 
breathless,  he  speeds  into  the  presence  of  the  chief  priests. 
'  I  have  sinned  in  that  I  have  betrayed  the  innocent 
blood,'  he  pants  out ;  but  they  only  turn  on  him  with  a 
snarl  and  a  gibe,  '  What  is  that  to  us  ?  see  thou  to  that.'' 
That  is  all  the  answer  he  gets  from  these  friends  and  com- 
panions in  his  crime.  And  he  has  sinned,  he  has  sold  his 
soul  for  this ! 

Ripping  the  silver  pieces  from  his  girdle  he  dashes 
them  upon  the  marble  pavement,  and  with  the  moan  of  a 
lost  soul  rushes  away  to  seek  a  suicide's  grave,  as  one  who 
has  sinned  too  deeply  to  be  forgiven.  Ah,  poor  lost 
Judas!  if  he  had  only  thrown  himself  at  Jesus'  feet 
instead.  That  was  his  one  chance,  if  he  had  only  known 
it.  Jesus  would  have  pardoned  him — can  we  doubt  it  ? 
— even  at  the  eleventh  hour. 

But  he  turned  away  from  God,  and  therefore  God 


THE  FATE  OF  JUDAS  363 

could  not  help  him.     So  he  died,  and  went  '  to  his  own 
place.' 

In  Venice  they  show  you  a  long  line  of  pictures,  the 
portraits  of  the  merchant  princes  who  ruled  as  Doges  or 
Dukes  of  Venice.  One  space  in  the  long  line  of  pictures 
is  vacant,  and  a  black  curtain  hangs  before  it.  There 
once  hung  the  picture  of  one  who  proved  false  to  his 
country.  So  in  the  picture  gallery  of  the  New  Testament 
hang  the  pictures  of  'the  glorious  company  of  the  apostles,' 
and  there  is  one  blank  space  left  there  as  well.  It  is  the 
place  which  was  once  filled  by  Judas,  who  sold  his  Master 
for  thirty  pieces  of  silver. 


THE    TRIAL    BEFORE    PILATE 

It  was  now  morning.  Jerusalem  lay  bathed  in  the 
beautiful  half  tints  and  misty  colours  of  the  early  dawn. 
Outside  the  city  walls  rose  the  song  of  the  birds ;  the 
lambs  were  leaping  in  the  fields,  and,  sprinkled  over  the 
meadows,  the  sweet  spring  flowers  were  everywhere  open- 
ing their  coloured  cups  to  greet  the  rising  sun.  Thrust 
into  a  dark  room,  bruised,  bound  with  cords,  and  worn 
out  with  watching  and  want  of  sleep,  Jesus  awaited  His 
judges'  will. 

Although  they  had  condemned  Him  to  death,  the 
Jewish  Council  were  unable  to  carry  out  the  sentence 
they  had  pronounced.  The  power  of  life  and  death  had 
passed  into  the  hands  of  Rome.  The  next  step,  there- 
fore, was  to  carry  Jesus  before  Pontius  Pilate,  the  Roman 
Governor. 

Pilate  was  at  this  time  lodged  in  the  beautiful  palace 
of  Herod  on  the  hill.  He  had  come  up  from  C^esarea  to 
Jerusalem,  with  a  host  of  soldiers  at  his  back,  in  order  to 
be  at  hand  to  quell  any  riot  that  might  arise  among  the 
Jews,  during  the  time  of  the  Passover. 

Every  Roman  official  was  hateful  to  the  Jews,  but 
Pilate  was  especially  hateful.  He  was  a  man  of  haughty 
temper,  and  of  proud,  high-handed  ways.  INIore  than 
once  he  had  done  his  best  to  offend  and  hurt  the  religious 


THE  TRIAL  BEFORE  PILATE  365 

feelings  of  the  people.  He  had  allowed  his  soldiers  to  carry 
the  silver  eagles  of  the  Roman  legions  through  the  streets 
of  Jerusalem,  an  act  which  had  aroused  such  anger  that 
for  nearly  a  week,  we  are  told,  the  Jews  besieged  his 
doors  day  and  night,  until  he  gave  orders  for  the  hateful 
emblems  to  be  removed.  At  another  time  he  had  goaded 
the  people  to  fury  by  hanging  up  in  his  palace  a  number 
of  gilded  shields  inscribed  with  the  names  of  heathen  gods. 
Then  again,  when  he  wanted  money  to  build  an  aqueduct 
to  supply  Jerusalem  with  water,  he  had  seized  the  sacred 
money  of  the  Treasury  to  pay  for  it.  On  the  Jews  break- 
ing out  in  passionate  revolt,  he  had  sent  soldiers  among 
the  rioters  with  daggers  under  their  garments,  with  orders 
to  hack  at  and  slay  all  who  came  in  their  way,  and  so  had 
dispersed  the  mob. 

No  wonder  the  Jews  hated  Pilate ;  he  did  not  under- 
stand their  ways,  he  did  not  care  to  understand  them. 
Already  complaints  as  to  his  conduct  had  been  lodged  at 
Rome.  People  were  hoping  and  praying  for  his  downfall. 
Such  was  the  man  before  whom  Jesus  was  now  to  stand, 
to  be  judged  by  him  and  to  judge  him  in  His  turn.  Start- 
ing from  the  house  of  Caiaphas,  the  band  of  chief  priests 
and  elders,  accompanied  by  a  gathering  mob  of  the 
people,  set  out  for  the  Prcetorium,  as  the  Judgment 
Hall  of  Pilate  was  called,  and  thronging  up  on  the 
palace  steps  began  to  clamour  for  Pilate  to  come  out 
and  do  justice  upon  their  prisoner.  Presently  the  doors 
of  the  Preetorium  are  flung  wide  open,  and  Pilate,  cold, 
dignified,  cynical,  comes  out,  surrounded  by  a  glittering 
train  of  soldiers,  and  surveys  the  crowd  with  a  con- 
temptuous stare.  If  the  Jews  hated  Pilate,  he  cordially 
hated  and  despised  them  in  return. 

In  front  of  the  Pr^etorium  there  was  a  raised,  moveable 
platform,  inlaid  with  coloured  stones,  called  'the  Pave- 


366  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

ment,'  from  which  the  Roman  Governor  was  accustomed 
to  deliver  judgment.  Upon  this  Pilate's  curule  chair  of 
ivory  is  placed,  and  he  takes  his  seat. 

'  What  is  the  charge  ? '  he  asks.  For  answer,  Jesus  is 
thrust  before  him,  and  the  voices  of  the  chief  priests  are 
raised,  demanding  that  He  should  be  put  to  death. 

But  Pilate  was  not  a  butcher;  he  was  a  Roman  judge, 
and  it  was  not  the  way  of  the  Romans  to  condemn  a  man 
to  death  unheard. 

'  What  is  the  Man's  crime  ? '  he  asks.  The  chief  priests 
answer  insolently, '  If  He  were  not  a  malefactor,  we  would 
not  have  delivered  Him  up  unto  thee.'  A  malefactor? 
Pilate  looks  curiously  at  the  Figure  before  him — the  pale, 
frail  Figure  with  the  torn  robe  and  the  poet's  brow. 

He  shrugs  his  shoulders.  '  Take  Him  and  judge  Him 
for  yourselves,'  he  answers,  making  as  though  he  would 
rise.  This  was  evidently  no  case  for  Rome  to  trouble 
about. 

But  Pilate  must  be  made  to  understand  that  the  case 
had  to  do  with  Rome  in  a  very  special  way.  Jesus, 
urged  the  chief  priests,  was  a  dangerous  character.  He 
had  stirred  up  the  people,  He  had  forbidden  them  to  give 
tribute  to  Ceesar,  He  had  dared  to  call  Himself  a  King. 

Well,  this  at  any  rate  is  a  charge  which  must  be  looked 
into.  Pilate  orders  Jesus  to  be  brought  into  the  Pr£e- 
torium  for  examination.  There,  in  the  great  empty  haU, 
they  faced  one  another,  the  Prisoner  and  His  judge. 

Pilate's  keen  eye  rested  upon  Jesus'  drooping  figure  and 
worn  white  face.  '  Art  thou  the  King  of  the  Jews  ? '  he 
asked  at  last — '  thou  poor,  despised,  sad,  suffering  ^lan  ? ' 
And  Jesus  answers,  '  My  Kingdom  is  not  of  this  world. 
If  My  Kingdom  were  of  this  world,  then  would  My 
servants  fight,  that  I  should  not  be  delivered  to  the 
Jews  ;  but  now  is  My  Kingdom  not  from  hence.' 


THE  TRIAL  BEFORE  PILATE  3G7 

My  Kingdom  ?  '  Art  Thou  a  King,  then  ? '  Pilate  asks 
again ;  and  Jesus  answers,  '  Thou  sayest  that  I  am  a 
King.  To  this  end  was  I  born,  and  for  this  cause  came  I 
into  the  world,  that  I  should  bear  witness  unto  the  truth. 
Every  one  that  is  of  the  truth  heareth  My  voice.' 

Truth  ?  What  was  truth  ?  Pilate  wondered.  He 
wished  he  knew. 

This  was  a  strange  Man.  How  calm  and  steadfast  His 
eyes  were ;  how  gently,  and  yet  with  what  quiet  dignity 
He  spoke.  There  was  something  about  Him  which  Pilate 
could  not  understand.  Of  one  thing,  however,  he  was  quite 
sure  ;  Jesus  might  be  a  Dreamer  of  dreams,  but  He  was 
no  criminal.  Pilate  would  not  have  Him  thrown  to  the 
wolves  if  he  could  help  it. 

Coming  out  to  the  crowd  he  tells  them  that  he  finds 
no  fault  in  the  Man. 

At  this  the  storm  breaks  out.  The  chief  priests  are 
furious.  '  He  stirreth  up  the  people  from  Galilee  to 
Jerusalem,'  they  cry,  and  the  crowd  around  the  Preetorium 
steps  begins  to  growl  and  mutter,  and  show  signs  of 
growing  anger. 

Pilate  sees  his  task  is  likely  to  prove  difficult.  He 
does  not  want  another  riot.  What  a  difficult,  unmanage- 
able people  these  Jews  were.  Suddenly  he  catches  at  the 
word  '  Galilee.'  King  Herod  of  Galilee  was  at  this  very 
time  at  Jerusalem.  Why  not  send  Jesus  to  be  judged  by 
him  ?  Pilate  was  on  bad  terms  with  Herod  just  them, 
and  it  would  be  a  clever  stroke.  It  would  pay  the  king  a 
compliment,  and  rid  himself  of  the  responsibihty  of  deal- 
ing with  Jesus,  at  the  same  time.  So  Pilate  tells  off  a 
guard  to  accompany  Jesus  and  His  accusers  to  Herod's 
Court. 

Herod's  weak,  crafty  face  lighted  up  with  pleasure 
when  he  saw  Jesus.     He  had  often  heard  of  Him  and  of 


368  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

His  miracles.  Here  was  a  chance  perhaps  of  seeing  a 
miracle  performed.  Eagerly  he  began  to  question  Jesus, 
but  Jesus  answered  him  nothing.  He  would  not  deign  to 
speak  one  word  to  this  bad-hearted,  evil-living  man,  the 
murderer  of  His  friend. 

So,  too,  when  pressing  forward,  the  chief  priests  and 
elders  began  to  pour  out  their  charges  against  Jesus,  still 
He  answered  nothing.  He  stood  there  facing  His 
accusers  with  grave,  attentive  eyes,  quite  silently.  Him- 
self judging  those  furious,  wicked  men  who  would  fain 
have  been  His  judges. 

At  last,  angry  and  disappointed,  Herod  turns  away. 
Jesus  had  treated  him  with  disdain ;  he  would  revenge 
himself  by  holding  Jesus  up  to  ridicule.  At  his  command 
the  servants  bring  forth  one  of  his  cast-off  royal  robes. 
They  throw  it  around  Jesus,  and  the  base  king  encour- 
ages his  men-at-arms  to  make  sport  of  the  Impostor,  the 
Man  who  laid  claim  to  be  King  of  the  Jews,  and  was  but 
a  sorry  King  of  '  shreds  and  patches.'  Then,  muffled  in 
this  mock  royal  robe,  Jesus  is  sent  back  again  to  Pilate, 
with  Herod's  compliments ;  and  the  same  day  Pilate  and 
Herod  were  made  friends  together. 

And  so  Pilate  finds  Jesus  on  his  hands  again ;  his 
clever  stroke  has  come  to  nothing.  He  must  decide  the 
case  himself  after  all.  But  how  ?  Jesus,  he  is  sure,  is 
innocent,  and  yet  he  dares  not  release  Him,  because  he  is 
afraid  of  getting  into  trouble  ;  at  the  same  time,  since  He 
is  innocent,  he  hates  the  thought  of  giving  Him  up  to  die. 
Was  there  no  way  out  of  the  difficulty  ?  Yes,  there  was 
one  way — the  way  of  doing  right,  at  whatever  cost,  but 
Pilate  was  not  strong  enough  to  take  it.  As  weak  men 
do  in  times  of  difficulty  he  hesitated,  he  tried  to  find  some 
half-way  house  of  shelter  for  his  conscience.  He  tells  tlie 
crowd  who  have  b^un  to  clamour  afresh  for  Jesus'  death 


THE  TRIAL  BEFORE  PILATE  369 

that  he  is  persuaded  of  His  innocence,  and  that  Herod  is 
evidently  of  his  opinion  as  well ;  yet  the  Man  shall  be 
punislied ;  orders  shall  be  given  for  Him  to  be  scourged 
and  then  set  free. 

But  it  was  death,  not  scourging,  on  which  Christ's 
enemies  were  set,  and  the  storm  of  rage  breaks  out  afresh. 
Pilate  is  at  his  wits'  end. 

To  add  to  his  uneasiness  and  perplexity,  as  he  takes 
his  seat  once  more  upon  his  ivory  chair,  his  wife,  Claudia, 
sends  him  a  message,  imploring  him  not  to  condemn 
Jesus,  *that  just  Man,'  as  she  calls  Him,  because  of  a 
strange  and  awful  dream  she  had  had  about  Him,  '  in  the 
morning  hour  when  dreams  come  true.' 

Pilate,  like  most  Romans,  was  superstitious  about 
dreams,  and  now  more  than  ever  he  shrank  back  from  the 
dreadful  deed  he  was  asked  to  commit.  He  will  try 
another  plan,  he  thinks.  It  was  the  custom  at  Passover 
time  for  the  Governor  to  free  a  Jewish  prisoner  in  honour 
of  the  feast.  Now  there  was  a  robber  chieftain  lying  in 
prison  at  the  time,  a  daring,  desperate  character,  Barabbas 
by  name,  who  had  headed  a  revolt  against  the  Roman 
power,  and  was  now  awaiting  sentence  of  death. 

Recalling  to  the  minds  of  the  mob  the  old  custom, 
Pilate  asked  them  which  of  the  two  prisoners,  Jesus  or 
Barabbas,  they  would  have  him  set  free ;  the  fierce  robber 
whose  hands  were  dyed  with  blood,  or  the  gentle  Teacher 
who  claimed  to  be  their  King.  There  could  only  be  one 
answer  to  such  a  question  as  this,  he  thinks ;  but  Pilate 
had  counted  without  the  chief  priests  and  the  elders. 
Instantly  they  are  at  work  among  the  crowd  urging  the 
people  to  demand  the  release  of  Barabbas.  Crowds  are 
only  too  easily  swayed.  When  Pilate  therefore  repeats 
his  question,  he  is  met  with  the  hoarse  shout  of,  '  Not  this 
INIan,  but  Barabbas.'     *  What  shall  I  do  then  with  Jesus 


370  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

which  is  called  Christ?'  he  asks,  and  the  cry  goes  up, 
'  Crucify  Him,  crucify  Him.' 

Pilate  had  now  come  to  the  narrow  place  where  there 
was  no  room  to  turn  either  to  the  right  hand  or  to  the 
left.  Calhng  for  a  basin  of  water  he  washes  his  hands, 
and  holding  them  up  dripping  wet  before  the  people,  he 
cries  in  a  loud  voice,  '  I  am  innocent  of  the  blood  of  this 
just  person  ;  see  ye  to  it.'  Then  all  the  people  made  this 
awful  answer,  '  His  blood  be  on  us,  and  on  our  children.' 

Ah,  it  was  easy  for  Pilate  to  wash  his  hands,  but  soap 
and  water  will  not  wash  out  the  stain  of  guilt.  Never 
ao-ain  as  lone:  as  he  lived  would  Pilate's  hands  be  clean. 
Already  in  God's  eyes  they  were  dyed  a  dreadful  red. 
He  was  meditating  a  sin  which  all  the  washing  in  the 
world  would  never  wash  away. 

We  can  hardly  imagine  a  more  terrible  example  of 
moral  weakness  than  Pilate  presents.  He  knew  the  right, 
yet  he  was  afraid  to  follow  it.  In  his  anxiety  to  avoid 
trouble  he  sent  an  innocent  man  to  his  death.  And  what 
did  he  gain  by  it  after  all  ?  Like  Judas,  he  sinned  for 
nothing.  Pilate's  after  history  may  be  summed  up  in 
three  words — disgrace,  banishment,  suicide. 

Among  the  peasants  of  Switzerland  there  is  a  belief 
that  still  to-day  his  ghost  may  be  seen  walking  on  INIount 
Pilatus  ceaselessly  washing  its  hands.  That  is  just  the 
picture  of  Pilate  we  carry  away  with  us  as  we  read  the 
story  of  the  Passion.  Ever  we  seem  to  see  him  washing 
his  hands,  in  the  vain  effort  to  escape  responsibility.  But 
it  clings  to  him  all  the  same  ;  the  stain  of  his  sin  remains  ; 
he  can  never  rid  himself  of  it.  And  so,  having  proclaimed 
Jesus'  innocence,  the  Governor  gives  way  at  last. 

The  order  goes  forth  that  Jesus  is  to  be  scourged,  and 
then  led  to  the  Cross.  'And  now  the  terrible  Roman  whip 
with  its  weighted  leather  thongs  is  brought  out,  and  Jesus 


THK    (  ROW  N    (  IF     I  HiiRXS 


THE  TRIAL  BEFORE  PILATE  371 

is  hurried  away  to  endure  its  agony.  The  criminal  con- 
demned to  be  scourged  was  stripped  and  tied  to  a  post. 
So  savagely  was  he  beaten  that  he  often  died  under 
tlie  lash.  This  awful  punishment  Jesus  bore  without 
a  murmur.  Afterwards  the  soldiers  led  Him  into  the 
guardroom,  and  began  to  while  away  an  idle  hour  by 
holding  a  mock  coronation. 

Rough  and  pitiless  indeed  must  the  hearts  of  these 
Roman  soldiers  have  been,  to  find  pleasure  in  making  fun 
of  a  half-dying  man,  yet  the  whole  band,  we  read,  took 
part  in  this  dreadful  work. 

Tearing  off  Herod's  robe,  all  torn  and  blood-stained 
now,  and  catching  up  some  old  cast-ofF  military  cloak,  they 
throw^  it  over  Jesus'  shoulders  in  mockery  of  the  royal 
purple.  One  of  the  soldiers  tears  a  spray  of  acanthus 
thorn  from  some  neighbouring  garden  hedge,  and,  plaiting 
it  into  a  wreath,  forces  it  upon  His  brow.  Another  cuts 
a  reed  and  places  it  in  His  hand  to  serve  Him  for  a 
sceptre.  Soldiers  and  servants  come  crowding  round, 
bending  the  knee  before  Him  and  crying  w^ith  mocking 
voices,  '  Hail,  King  of  the  Jews  ! ' 

At  last  they  tire  of  their  game.  They  take  the 
sceptre  from  His  hand  and  strike  Him  on  the  head ;  the 
servants  spit  at  Him.  .  .  . 

And  all  the  while  Jesus  never  uttered  a  word.  Pale, 
silent,  suffering,  He  sat  in  His  kingly  robes,  looking  at 
His  persecutors  wdth  dim,  sorrowful  eyes — not  hating, 
only  pitying,  praying  for  them. 

'  The  Lord  is  King  and  hath  put  on  glorious  apparel : 
the  Lord  hath  put  on  His  apparel  and  girded  Himself 
with  strength.'  Dear  child,  how  easy  it  would  have  been 
for  Him  to  have  slain  these  wicked  men  with  a  breath  of 
His  lips,  but  instead  He  willed  to  shed  His  blood  to  save 
them. 


372  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Then  Pilate  comes  in,  and  the  noise  and  clamour 
immediately  die  down.  His  eye  falls  on  the  figure  of  the 
patient,  thorn -crowned  Christ,  and  a  sudden  wave  of  pity 
sweeps  over  him.  He  must  make  another  effort  to  save 
His  life,  he  thinks.  Let  Jesus  be  led,  just  as  He  is,  on  to 
the  great  steps  of  the  Prsetorium  where  all  can  see  Him, 
is  his  order.  '  Then  came  Jesus  forth,  wearing  the  crown 
of  thorns  and  the  purple  robe.'  Standing  by  His  side 
and  pointing  at  Him,  Pilate  cries  out  'Ecce  homo' — 
'  Behold  the  man.'  Surely  the  sight  of  that  brave, 
patient,  outraged  Figure  will  move  even  the  wolfish  hearts 
of  these  vile  Jews  to  pity.  O  vain  thought !  it  only 
seems  to  rouse  them  to  greater  frenzy.  *  Crucify  Him, 
crucify  Him,'  swells  the  savage  cry.  The  mob  presses 
forward  with  ugly  menacing  gestures ;  it  almost  looks  as 
if  they  would  rush  the  palace.  Pale  and  angry,  Pilate 
flings  back  the  retort,  '  Take  ye  Him  and  crucify 
Him,  for  I  find  no  fault  in  Him.'  The  chief  priests 
answer,  '  We  have  a  law,  and  by  our  law  He  ought  to 
die,  because  He  made  Himself  the  Son  of  God.' 

Pilate's  heart  sank.  No  doubt  he  had  read  in  heathen 
poetry  that  the  gods  came  down  to  earth  sometimes. 
Was  this  the  Son  of  God  ? 

Returning  to  the  Prgetorium  he  called  Jesus  to  him. 
'  Whence  art  Thou?'  he  asked  half  fearfully.  Jesus  made 
no  answer;  He  only  looked  at  Pilate.  How  that  look 
stung  ;  it  was  not  an  angry  look,  but  there  was  a  touch  of 
severity  in  it,  there  was  reproach  ;  it  seemed  to  search 
Pilate  through  and  through.  He  began  to  bluster. 
'  Speakest  Thou  not  unto  me  ?  Knowest  Thou  not  that 
I  have  power  to  crucify  Thee,  and  have  power  to  release 
Thee  ? '  Jesus  answered, '  Thou  couldest  have  no  power  at 
all  against  Me,  except  it  were  given  thee  from  above  :  there- 
fore he  that  delivered  JNIe  unto  thee  hath  the  greater  sin.' 


THE  TRIAL  BEFORE  PILATE  373 

Perplexed,  harassed,  driven,  Pilate  makes  one  last 
desperate  effort  to  save  Jesus  and  win  back  his  self- 
respect.  Leading  Him  forth  once  more ;  '  Behold  your 
King,'  he  cries,  as  though,  having  appealed  in  vain  to 
their  pity,  he  would  now  shame  them  with  their  own  folly, 
by  bidding  them  gaze  on  the  kind  of  man  who  was  to 
thrust  CiEsar  from  his  throne.  But  the  shouts  of 
*  Crucify '  still  continue. 

'  Shall  I  crucify  your  King  ? '  asks  Pilate  in  tones 
of  scorn ;  and  the  answer  comes,  '  We  have  no  king  but 
Cfesar.  If  thou  let  this  Man  go,  thou  art  not  Casar  s 
friend;  whosoever  maketh  himself  a  king  speaketh 
against  Ceesar.' 

This  decided  Pilate.  He  knew  the  pretended  loyalty 
of  the  people  to  Caesar  was  a  farce,  but  he  knew  it  was  in 
the  power  of  the  chief  priests  to  get  him  into  trouble  at 
Rome  by  misrepresenting  his  words,  and  so  poisoning  the 
mind  of  the  Emperor  against  him.  The  thought  terrified 
him — it  might  mean  disgrace,  perhaps  even  death.  Jesus 
must  be  sacrificed.  He  was  sorry,  but  there  was  no  help 
for  it,  and  so  the  order  is  given  to  a  soldier  to  get  ready 
the  Cross.  Rough  hands  strip  Jesus  of  His  poor  finery ; 
His  own  clothes  are  huddled  upon  His  back.  Then  the 
great  door  of  the  Prffitorium  opens  once  more ;  for  an 
instant  He  stands  in  full  view  of  the  people ;  then  He 
descends  the  steps  and  begins  His  journey  along  the 
Sorrowful  Way,  to  the  place  which  is  called  Calvary. 


VI 

CALVAKY 

There  is  a  poem  by  a  great  poet,  called  '  The  Patriot,'  in 
which  the  story  is  told  of  a  man  who  by  his  brave  deeds 
and  splendid  heroism  had  made  himself  the  idol  of  his 
countrymen.  The  day  of  his  triumph  has  come,  and  as 
he  enters  his  native  city,  the  whole  place  is  ablaze  with 
enthusiasm.  Banners  are  hung  out,  trumpets  peal,  the 
drums  roll  and  the  people  shout. 

'  It  was  roses,  roses,  all  the  way, 
With  myrtle  mixed  in  my  path  like  mad  ; 
The  house-roofs  seemed  to  heave  and  sway. 
The  church-spires  flamed,  such  flags  they  had, 
A  year  ago  on  this  very  day.' 

The  people,  he  says,  would  have  given  him  the  sun  out 
of  the  sky  had  he  asked  for  it. 

A  year  passes  by,  and  how  changed  the  scene  !  He  is 
going  out  of  the  city  now  instead  of  entering  in.  There 
are  no  flags,  no  drums  and  trumpets,  and  no  cheering 
crowds.  He  walks  on  foot  in  the  rain  ;  a  rope  cuts  his 
wrist ;  his  forehead  is  bleeding  from  the  blow  of  a  stone  ; 
the  people  who  follow  him  to  the  scaffold  hoot  and  jeer 
at  him. 

'Thus  I  entered,  and  thus  I  go  ! 
In  triumphs,  people  have  dropped  down  dead. 
"  Paid  by  the  world.  What  dost  thou  owe 
Me?" — God  might  question.     Now  instead, 
'Tis  God  shall  repay :   I  am  safer  so.' 


CALVARY  875 

How  like  the  story  of  this  patriot  is  the  story  of  Jesus. 
Barely  a  week  had  passed  by  since  He  rode  through  the 
streets  of  Jerusalem.  He  had  been  received  in  triumph  ; 
the  air  had  thundered  with  the  cry  of  '  Hosanna ' ;  palm 
branches  had  been  waved  and  garments  strewn  in  the 
way. 

Now  He  passes  through  the  same  streets  on  His  way 
to  the  Cross.  He  has  been  condemned  to  die  the  death 
of  the  murderer  and  the  thief,  and  the  very  people  who 
then  shouted  'Hosanna'  now  greet  Him  with  jeers  and 
insults.  Yesterday  He  was  hailed  as  King,  to-day  He  is 
derided  as  a  malefactor. 

The  Way  of  the  Cross !  Picture  the  sad  procession 
as  it  winds  its  way  out  of  the  great  square  in  front  of 
the  Prsetorium.  The  sky  above  is  blue  ;  the  narrow  streets 
are  flooded  with  brilliant  sunlight  and  crowded  with 
eager  sightseers.  The  news  has  spread  that  Jesus  is 
being  led  forth  to  die,  and  the  whole  city  has  come  out 
to  see  Him  pass. 

Clearing  a  way  through  the  crowd,  first  comes  a 
centurion  on  horseback,  then  follow  a  troop  of  soldiers 
in  glittering  armour.  Behind  them,  guarded  by  more 
soldiers,  comes  Jesus.  Slung  upon  His  shoulders  are 
two  heavy  pieces  of  wood  which  are  to  form  the  cross- 
beams of  His  Cross.  His  face  is  pale  and  worn  with 
suffering ;  His  long  white  robe  is  stained  with  blood ; 
around  His  neck  He  carries  a  board  with  His  accusation 
written  upon  it. 

By  His  side  walk  two  highwaymen,  condemned 
to  die  like  Himself,  and,  like  Himself,  weighed  down 
beneath  the  burden  of  their  crosses.  In  the  rear  surge 
the  mixed  rabble  of  the  square,  their  throats  hoarse  with 
the  cry  of'  Crucify  Him.' 

Jostled  by  the  brutal  soldiery,  and  followed  by  the 


376  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

jeers  and  reproaches  of  the  crowd,  Jesus  toils  wearily 
along.  At  last,  worn  out  with  pain  and  suffering,  and 
fainting  beneath  His  heavy  Cross,  He  sinks  exhausted 
to  the  ground,  and  though  rough  hands  raise  Him  to  His 
feet  and  place  the  wooden  beams  once  more  upon  His 
bent  and  weary  shoulders,  it  is  found  that  He  has  no 
strength  to  carry  them. 

The  Cross  was  the  instrument  of  shame,  the  gallows  of 
its  day,  and  no  Roman  soldier  would  touch  it.  Yet  some 
one  must  be  found  to  carry  it  in  Jesus'  stead.  What  was 
to  be  done  ?  Just  then  a  stranger  passed  by,  a  man  of 
dusky  face  and  foreign  garb,  coming  in  from  the  country. 
His  name  was  Simon,  and  he  was  from  Cyrene  in  Africa. 
As  he  stops  to  gaze  pityingly  on  the  crushed  and 
fainting  figure  of  Jesus,  the  soldiers  seize  him  and,  in 
spite  of  his  protests,  bind  the  Cross  upon  his  back.  How 
unwillingly  Simon  must  have  borne  that  load  at  first,  we 
can  well  imagine ;  and  yet  if,  as  it  seems,  he  afterwards 
became  Jesus'  disciple,  the  recollection  of  the  help  he 
gave  his  Master  in  His  hour  of  need  would  become  one 
of  his  dearest  memories.  St.  JNIark  tells  us  that  Simon 
was  the  father  of  two  well-known  Christians,  Alexander 
and  Rufus,  and  so  it  would  certainly  appear  that,  as 
a  reward  for  carrying  Jesus'  Cross  upon  his  shoulders, 
Jesus  gave  him  the  Cross  to  carry  in  his  heart. 

Following  Jesus  at  a  distance  were  a  number  of 
women  of  the  city,  some  of  whom,  it  may  be,  He  had 
helped  and  blessed  in  days  gone  by ;  women  whose  sons 
and  husbands  He  had  healed,  and  whose  little  children 
He  had  taken  up  in  His  arms.  Distressed  at  the  sight  of 
His  sufferings  and  at  the  thought  of  His  coming  death, 
they  were  beating  their  breasts  and  weeping  bitter  tears. 

Jesus,  forgetting  His  own  pains  in  the  thought  of  the 
suffering  that  these  poor  women  themselves  must  soon 


CALVARY  377 

endure,  turned  to  them  with  words  of  love  and  pity.  He 
bade  them  weep  not  for  Him,  but  rather  weep  for  them- 
selves and  for  their  children.  An  awful  doom  overhung 
the  city  ;  when  it  fell  it  would  spare  neither  mother  nor 
little  innocent  child. 

Jesus  would  have  none  to  shed  tears  over  His  suffer- 
ings but  only  over  those  sins  which  were  the  cause  of  His 
sufferings. 

Passing  out  of  the  Damascus  gate,  the  procession 
comes  at  length  to  Calvary — the  place  of  a  skull,  as  the 
word  means — a  rising  slope  lying  beyond  the  city  wall. 
Here  a  halt  is  called.  The  soldiers  clear  a  space ;  a  great 
hole  is  dug  in  the  ground  to  hold  the  upright  beam 
which  is  to  form  part  of  Jesus'  Cross.  Then  the  cross- 
beams are  laid  upon  the  ground,  and  Simon  is  set  free 
at  last. 

There  was  a  guild  of  pious  women,  we  are  told,  at 
Jerusalem  who  were  accustomed  to  provide  a  goblet  of 
strong  wine  mingled  with  myrrh  for  the  unhappy 
criminals  to  drink,  in  order  to  deaden  their  pains  as 
they  hung  upon  the  Cross.  A  cup  of  this  wine  was 
offered  to  Jesus,  but  He  just  put  His  lips  to  it  and 
turned  His  head  away.  He  would  not  escape  a  single 
pang  of  the  suffering  His  Father  had  given  Him  to  bear ; 
He  would  meet  the  King  of  Terrors  with  clear,  unclouded 
mind,  no  matter  in  what  dreadful  form  he  came. 

And  now  four  soldiers  approach.  They  seize  Jesus, 
and  with  rough  hands  strip  Him  of  His  garments  ;  they 
then  throw  Him  to  the  ground  and  stretch  His  arms 
along  the  beam  of  the  Cross.  There  is  a  sound  of 
hammering  heard ;  they  have  nailed  one  of  His  hands 
to  the  wood.  Then  more  blows  from  the  hammer  and 
the  other  hand  is  nailed.  Then  they  hoist  the  beam  and 
fasten  it  in  its  place,  and  as  Jesus  hangs  upon  the  Cross  a 


378  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

great  iron  spike  is  driven  through  His  feet.  And  so  the 
King  comes  to  His  throne. 

See  how  the  nail  has  torn  the  hand  that  even  on  the 
Cross  is  raised  in  blessing — the  hand  that  healed  the 
blind,  that  touched  the  leper's  dreadful  brow,  that  rested 
with  loving  touch  on  the  sunny  heads  of  the  little 
children.  Look  how  the  blood  is  trickling  from  those 
feet  that  were  never  weary  of  going  about  doing  good. 
They  are  the  feet  that  Mary  washed  with  her  tears,  and 
dried  with  her  unloosened  hair.  They  have  carried  the 
Good  Shepherd  after  many  a  poor,  lost,  wandering  sheep 
upon  the  mountains.  Now  they  are  held  fast  to  the 
Cross  ;  their  work  of  loving  ministry  is  at  an  end.  Dear 
child,  does  not  the  sight  of  Jesus  dying  on  the  Cross 
help  us  to  see  what  a  terrible  thing  sin  must  be,  since 
nothing  less  than  the  death  of  God's  own  Son  could  avail 
for  its  forgiveness  ?  Does  it  not  teach  us  the  value  God 
sets  upon  our  souls,  since,  to  save  those  souls  the  King 
of  Glory  must  give  up  His  very  life  ? 

And  now  Jesus  speaks,  '  Father,  forgive  them ;  for 
they  know  not  what  they  do.'  It  is  a  prayer  for 
mercy  for  His  murderers,  for  the  brutal  soldiers  that 
were  putting  Him  to  death,  for  the  thoughtless  crowd 
that  made  holiday  on  Calvary,  for  all  sinners  to  the 
end  of  the  world.  Jesus  spoke  seven  times  as  He  hung 
upon  the  Cross,  and  each  word  is  hke  a  window  through 
which  we  may  look  into  His  loving  heart.  '  Pray  for 
them  which  despitefully  use  you,  and  persecute  you,'  He 
had  taught  His  disciples  on  the  mountain ;  now  He 
teaches  the  same  lesson  over  again,  this  time  by  His 
holy  example.  The  insults  and  injuries  of  His  enemies 
filled  Him  with  a  great  sorrow,  but  they  were  powerless 
to  move  Him  to  anger.  His  heart  was  hke  a  garden, 
spread  with  sweet  flowers  of  pity  and  forgiveness,  gentle- 


CALVARY  370 

ness  and  love.  There  was  no  room  in  it  for  bitterness 
or  revenge. 

Stretched  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross,  the  four  soldiers 
who  were  on  guard  now  began  to  divide  Jesus'  cloth- 
ing among  themselves.  He  had  little  to  leave  behind 
Him  when  He  came  to  die,  just  His  worn  white  outer 
robe,  His  leather  sandals  and  girdle,  the  covering  for  His 
head,  and  His  inner  garment.  The  inner  garment  was 
a  prize,  and  so  they  kept  it  till  last.  It  was  of  good 
material,  and  woven  in  one  piece.  Perhaps  it  was  His 
mother's  work,  perhaps  the  loving  offering  of  the  women 
wiio  followed  Him  from  Galilee.  It  seemed  a  pity  to 
tear  it  into  four  pieces.  To  get  out  of  the  difficulty  one 
of  the  soldiers  produces  a  couple  of  dice :  he  drops  them 
into  his  brass  helmet  and  the  coveted  prize  is  diced  away. 
How  little  these  soldiers  dreamed  they  were  fulfilling  a 
prophecy  which  had  been  spoken  many  hundreds  of 
years  before  of  Christ :  '  They  parted  INIy  raiment  among 
them,  and  for  JNIy  vesture  they  did  cast  lots.'  Yet  so  it 
was.  Then  sitting  down  they  watched  Him  there  with 
eyes  which  looked,  and  yet  saw — nothing. 

It  w^as  the  Roman  custom  to  place  at  the  head  of  the 
cross  a  tablet,  setting  forth  the  crime  for  which  the 
man  below  was  suffering  death.  Pilate  could  find  no 
fault  in  Jesus,  and  so  there  w^as  no  crime  placarded 
against  Him  on  the  Cross.  Instead,  the  tablet  bore  this 
inscription,  '  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  King  of  the  Jews.' 
The  title  was  written  in  Hebrew,  and  Greek,  and  Latin, 
and  Pilate  wrote  it  at  God's  dictation  though  he  did  not 
know  it.  It  was  a  reminder  tliat  the  message  of  the 
Gospel  should  be  preached  to  people  of  all  tongues 
throughout  tlie  world. 

Imagine  the  rage  of  the  chief  priests  and  the  elders 
as.  gathering  round  the  Cross  to  gloat  over  Jesus'  suffer- 


380  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

ings,  they  saw  these  words  above  His  head,  reflecting  on 
themselves.  In  haste  they  send  a  message  to  Pilate : 
*  Write  not,  The  King  of  the  Jews ;  but  that  He  said, 
I  am  King  of  the  Jews.'  But  it  was  with  the  very  pur- 
pose of  wounding  the  chief  priests  and  elders  that  Pilate 
had  written  the  title.  It  was  his  revenge  upon  them 
for  forcing  him  against  his  will  to  condemn  an  inno- 
cent man :  '  What  I  have  written  I  have  written,'  he 
answers  curtly,  and  there  is  a  gleam  in  his  eye  which 
warns  them  to  leave  well  alone.  What  a  sad  pity  that 
Pilate's  determination  to  be  firm  was  not  taken  a  little 
earlier ! 

It  was  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  Jesus  was 
led  forth  to  the  pain  of  the  Cross.  There  on  the  Cross 
He  hung,  slowly  dying,  for  six  long,  weary  hours.  '  We 
may  not  know,  we  cannot  tell,  the  pains  He  had  to  bear.' 
When  our  loved  ones  die,  we  do  all  we  can  to  make  their 
last  hours  easy  for  them.  Loving  hands  smooth  the 
dying  pillow,  loving  voices  murmur  in  the  dying  ear,  all 
the  offices  that  love  can  render  are  freely  paid.  But  it 
was  different  with  Jesus  on  His  death-bed.  The  hot  sun 
beat  down  upon  His  unsheltered  head ;  His  only  pillow 
was  the  splintered  Cross,  and  instead  of  voices  of  love 
and  tenderness,  He  heard  nothing  but  cries  of  mockery 
and  hate.  The  soldiers  mocked  Him,  lifting  their  wine- 
cups  to  His  lips  as  though  to  give  Him  drink,  and 
then  snatching  them  away  again.  The  two  robbers  who 
hung  on  each  side  of  Him  reviled  Him.  The  idle  mob 
of  holiday-makers  taunted  Him  with  the  cry :  *  Ah, 
Thou  that  destroyest  the  Temple,  and  buildest  it  in 
three  days,  save  Thyself.  If  Thou  be  the  Son  of  God, 
come  down  from  the  Cross.'  The  chief  priests  and 
elders  said  with  a  sneer :  '  He  saved  others  ;  Himself 
He  cannot  save.     If  He  be  the  King  of  Israel,  let  Him 


CALVARY  381 

now  come  down  from  the  Cross,  and  we  will  believe 
Him.' 

Yet  through  it  all  not  one  murmur  of  impatience 
came  from  the  lips  of  Jesus ;  He  made  no  reply  to  His 
tormentors.  How  easy  it  would  have  been  for  Him  to 
have  come  down  from  the  Cross  had  He  willed  it !  At 
a  word,  the  angels  that  hovered  over  Him  would  have 
loosened  the  nails  and  set  Him  free,  but  He  would  not 
speak  it.  It  was  not  the  nails,  it  was  the  strong  cord  of 
His  great  love  for  us  that  held  Him  fast ;  He  gave  Him- 
self up  to  die,  a  willing  Sacrifice,  since  by  His  death 
alone  could  He  win  forgiveness  for  our  sins  and  bring  us 
home  to  God. 

I  have  said  that  the  robbers  who  were  crucified  with 
Jesus  reviled  Him  like  the  rest.  Presently,  however,  one 
of  them  becomes  silent.  Something— perhaps  it  was 
the  beautiful  patience  and  meekness  that  Jesus  showed, 
perhaps  it  was  the  prayer  He  uttered  for  His  murderers 
— touches  his  heart.  God  opens  those  poor,  blind,  sin- 
blurred  eyes  of  his,  and  he  sees  in  the  patient  figure  hang- 
ing at  his  side  the  form  of  one  like  unto  the  Son  of  God. 
The  King  of  the  Jews  ?  What  if  He  were  really  King, 
the  very  Christ  whom  God  had  sent  to  be  the  Saviour  of 
the  world  ?  If  so,  may  there  not  be  a  chance  even  for 
him  ?  '  Lord,'  he  says,  with  eager,  tremulous  voice,  turn- 
ing his  dying  eyes  to  Jesus,  '  remember  me  when  Thou 
comest  into  Thy  Kingdom.'  And  Jesus  heard  his  prayer ; 
He  looked  at  the  poor  robber  and  read  the  sorrow  at  his 
heart  for  his  wasted,  misspent,  sinful  life ;  He  weighed 
the  wonderful  faith  that  did  not  stumble  even  at  the 
Cross,  and  He  rewarded  it.  Swiftly  the  beautiful  pro- 
mise comes :  '  Verily  I  say  unto  thee.  To-day  shalt  thou 
be  with  Me  in  Paradise,'  and  before  the  darkened  sun 
went  down  Jesus  had  kept  His  word. 


382  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

'  The  sun  was  low  in  the  changing  west, 
The  shadows  were  heavy  from  hill  and  tree, 
When  the  watchman  opened  the  Gate  of  Rest, 
"I  am  willing  with  all  My  heart,"  said  He.' 

Amid  the  wilderness  of  malice  and  hate  that  spread 
about  the  Cross,  there  was  one  little  patch  of  love  grow- 
ing bravely  at  its  foot.  Close  to  the  Cross  of  Jesus  stood 
His  mother,  and  by  her  side,  Jesus'  first  friend,  St.  John. 
There,  too,  were  His  mother's  sister,  INIary,  the  wife  of 
Cleophas,  and  JNIary  Magdalene.  Love  had  drawn  the 
little  group  of  mourners  to  the  Cross,  love  kept  them 
there  as  the  long  sad  hours  dragged  slowly  by,  love 
which  many  waters  cannot  quench. 

As  she  kept  watch  at  the  Cross,  looking  up  at  her 
dying  Son  with  piteous  face  and  tear-dimmed  eyes,  did 
Mary  think  of  those  words  which  the  aged  Simeon  had 
spoken  long  ago  in  the  Temple  as  he  took  her  little  Child 
in  his  arms,  '  A  sword  shall  pierce  through  thy  own  soul 
also '  ?  She  must  often  have  wondered  what  those  words 
meant.  Poor,  stricken,  suffering  ]\Iary,  how  clearly  in 
the  light  of  Jesus'  Cross  she  read  their  meaning  now ! 

Jesus  looked  down  upon  His  mother  with  His  fading 
eyes.  She  was  in  agony  and  He  longed  to  comfort  her. 
How  would  she  fare  when  left  to  face  the  hard,  cold 
world  alone  ?  From  Mary  His  eyes  travelled  to  St.  John, 
faithful  friend,  brave,  true-hearted,  loving  disciple.  He 
joined  their  hands  together  by  a  look.  '  Behold  thy  son,' 
He  said  to  His  mother,  and  then  to  the  dear  disciple, 
'Behold  thy  mother,'  and  from  that  hour,  INIary,  the 
mother  of  Jesus,  passed  into  the  safe  keeping  and  tender 
care  of  '  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved.' 

It  was  the  third  hour  of  Jesus'  agony,  and  now  a 
strange  and  awful  thing  happened.  It  was  high  noon 
when,  suddenly,  the  light  faded  from  the  heavens,  and 


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CALVARY  383 

a  thick  darkness  swept  down  upon  Calvary.  Every 
moment  the  gloom  deepened ;  the  disc  of  the  sun 
showed  blood-red  against  the  sky ;  the  birds  ceased 
singing,  the  voices  of  the  busy  mockers  were  hushed, 
and  the  crowd  began  to  melt  away  in  terror  and  dismay. 

For  three  hours  there  was  this  strange  darkness, 
and  all  the  while  Jesus  hung  in  silence  on  the  Cross. 
Then  from  His  dying  lips  came  an  awful  cry,  '  Eh,  Eli, 
lama  sabachthani — INIy  God,  My  God,  why  hast  Thou 
forsaken  Me  ? '  It  was  the  cry  of  a  breaking  heart.  The 
agony  of  the  nails,  the  scorching  heat,  the  cruel  mockery 
and  the  scorn,  He  had  borne  them  all  without  a  murmur. 
But  now  it  was  God's  will  to  lay  a  burden  upon  Him 
which  seemed  beyond  His  strength  to  carry.  The  sins 
of  the  world  which  He  bore  upon  His  shoulders  rose  up 
like  a  great  wall  of  separation  between  Himself  and  God. 
He  felt  deserted  and  forsaken  by  His  Father,  and  that 
just  when  He  needed  the  comfort  of  His  Presence  most. 
He  was  like  some  strong  swimmer,  sinking  exhausted 
beneath  the  waves,  who  stretches  out  his  hand  to  clutch 
the  saving  rope,  and  grasps — nothing. 

'  Deep  calleth  unto  deep  at  the  noise  of  Thy  water- 
spouts :  all  Thy  waves  and  Thy  billows  are  gone 
over  me.' 

Dear  child,  Jesus  was  never  nearer  to  His  Father's 
loving  heart  than  when  He  hung  upon  the  Cross,  yet  as 
the  punishment  of  sin  is  separation  from  God,  in  bearing 
our  sins  He  willed  to  feel  forsaken.  It  was  for  our  sakes 
that  He  endured  this  crowning  agony.  '  He  suffered 
darkness  and  death,  that  He  might  turn  death  into  hfe, 
and  darkness  into  light.' 

By  and  by  the  darkness  rolls  away;  the  sun  shines 
once  more  on  Calvary,  and  light  comes  once  more  to  the 
darkened   soul   of   Jesus.       And   now   from   the   white, 


384  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

parched  lips  of  the  dying  Christ  come  the  words,  '  I 
thirst.' 

Hearing  the  awful  cry  that  came  just  before,  some  of 
those  who  stood  near  the  Cross  said  to  one  another,  '  He 
is  caUing  for  Elias.' 

Now,  one  of  the  soldiers,  touched  with  pity,  and  heed- 
less of  his  companions'  cry,  '  Let  be,  let  us  see  whether 
Elias  will  come  to  save  Him,'  ran  and  dipped  a  sponge 
in  the  soldiers'  jar  of  sour  wine  by  the  Cross  and  pressed 
it  to  Jesus'  lips.  It  was  the  one  act  of  mercy  amid  the 
many  acts  of  cruelty  at  the  Cross,  and  Jesus  accepted  it, 
and,  we  may  believe,  blessed  it.  Who  this  nameless 
soldier  was  we  do  not  know — but  God  knows,  and  when 
Jesus,  on  whom  He  had  pity,  comes  to  take  account  of 
His  servants,  we  may  be  sure  that  he  will  in  no  wise  lose 
his  reward. 

Then  when  Jesus  had  received  the  wine  He  cried  with 
a  glad  voice,  '  It  is  finished.'  Yes,  it  was  over  at  last — 
all  the  shame  and  the  reproach,  all  the  bitter  anguish  and 
the  torture,  all  the  sadness  and  the  tears ! 

The  journey  was  at  an  end,  that  hard  journey  along 
life's  rugged  road  which  He  had  come  to  tread  in  order 
that  we  might  tread  it  after  Him  with  better  courage. 
His  atoning  work  was  at  an  end,  the  sacrifice  had  been 
offered  up,  the  debt  of  sin  had  been  paid,  the  world  had 
been  brought  back  again  to  God.  There  was  a  verse 
from  one  of  the  old  Psalms  of  David  that  every  Jewish 
mother  used  to  teach  her  little  child  to  repeat  before  he 
lay  down  to  rest  at  night.  Jesus,  as  He  knelt  at  Mary's 
knee  in  the  little  home  of  Nazareth,  had  always  added  it 
to  His  prayers.  Now  He  repeated  it  for  the  last  time, 
'  Father,'  He  said,  'into  Thy  hands  I  commend  My  spirit.' 
Then  His  head  fell;  He  died  with  the  Child's  Prayer 
upon  His  hps. 


CALVARY  385 

Lord,  on  the  Cross  Thine  Arms  were  stretched 

To  draw  Thy  people  nigh. 
Oh  grant  us  then  that  Cross  to  love. 

And  in  those  Arms  to  die.' 


The  Bible  tells  us  of  some  strange  and  wonderful 
things  which  happened  at  Jesus'  death.  An  earthquake 
tore  the  rocks  of  Calvary,  the  graves  were  opened,  and  the 
dead  arose  and  went  out  into  the  open  streets.  Afar  at 
Jerusalem  it  was  the  time  of  the  evening  sacrifice.  As 
the  priests  gathered  in  the  Temple,  fear  and  consternation 
sat  on  every  face.  The  great  Babylonian  curtain,  which 
divided  the  Holy  Place  from  the  Holy  of  Holies,  had  been 
found  rent  completely  in  twain  across  its  many-coloured, 
gold-embroidered  folds. 

Had  they  only  known  it,  the  tearing  of  the  curtain 
was  a  sign  sent  from  God.  The  Temple  had  done  its 
work ;  the  day  of  barriers  between  God  and  man  was 
past.  Jesus  by  His  death  had  opened  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven  to  all  believers. 

Wonder  and  fear  fought  together  in  the  hearts  of  the 
soldiers,  as  the  solid  earth  shook  and  trembled  beneath 
their  feet  when  Jesus  died.  The  centurion  had  kept 
watch  beneath  many  a  cross  before,  but  never  had  he 
seen  a  death  like  this.  The  power  of  the  Cross  began 
to  work  upon  him.  It  drew  him  over  to  Jesus'  side. 
'Truly  this  man,'  he  said  solemnly,  'was  the  Son  of 
God.' 

The  law  of  INIoses  commanded  that  the  bodies  of  those 
who  had  been  hanged  upon  a  tree  should  be  taken  down 
and  buried  before  sunset.  The  Jews,  therefore,  came  to 
Pilate  with  the  request  that,  after  the  cruel  fashion  of 
those  days,  the  legs  of  the  dying  men  on  Calvary  might 
be  broken,  and  their  bodies  taken  away.      Pilate  gave 


386  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

them  leave,  and  presently  a  fresh  company  of  soldiers  set 
out  for  Calvary  to  carry  out  the  governor's  orders. 

So  the  legs  of  the  robbers  were  broken,  and  the  soul 
of  the  sufferer  who  turned  to  Jesus  on  the  Cross  went  to 
join  the  King  in  the  beautiful  garden  of  Paradise. 

But  when  the  soldiers  came  to  Jesus  they  saw  that 
He  was  already  dead,  and  so  they  did  not  use  their  cruel 
mallet  upon  Him.  One  of  the  soldiers,  however,  reached 
up,  and  with  his  spear  pierced  the  Saviour's  side,  '  and 
forthwith  came  there  out  blood  and  water.'  There  was 
a  deep  meaning  in  this  wonder.  It  was  a  sign  that  Jesus 
did  not  see  corruption,  but  that  even  in  death  He  was 
the  Lord  of  life. 

There  was  a  band  of  faithful  women  and  other  friends 
of  Jesus  keeping  watch  a  little  distance  from  the  Cross, 
waiting  to  see  what  would  become  of  their  Master's 
body.  It  hurt  them  sorely  to  think  of  that  dear  lifeless 
form  being  roughly  handled,  and  perhaps  cast  into  some 
dreadful  pit,  un honoured  and  unwept.  If  only  they 
might  carry  it  away  ! 

Perhaps  among  these  watchers  by  the  Cross  stood 
Joseph  of  Arimathea,  one  of  the  members  of  the  Jewish 
Council.  (When  the  sun  goes  down  the  stars  begin  to 
come  out.)  He  was  a  good  and  holy  man,  and  a  disciple 
of  Jesus,  though  hitherto,  through  fear  of  the  Jews,  he 
had  not  dared  to  confess  Him  openly.  Now,  however, 
the  Cross  begins  to  draw  him,  just  as  it  had  drawn  the 
centurion,  and  he  who  had  not  the  courage  to  confess 
Christ  before  men  when  He  was  alive,  now  that  He  is 
dead,  goes  boldly  to  Pilate  and  begs  the  body  of  the 
Lord. 

Pilate,  having  learned  from  the  centurion  that  Jesus 
was  really  dead,  gave  Joseph  leave  to  take  away  the 
body.       Then  Joseph,  having  bought  fine  linen  for  the 


CALVARY  387 

burial,  returns  to  Calvary.  There,  at  the  Cross,  he  finds 
another  secret  follower  of  Jesus.  This  was  Nicodemus, 
who  first  came  to  Jesus  by  night.  Suffering  and  sorrow 
are  written  on  his  face,  for  he  too  has  lost  a  friend,  and 
the  bitter  thought  keeps  rising  in  his  heart,  '  I  might 
have  played  a  nobler  part  and  served  my  Master  better.' 

Nicodemus  had  brought  a  great  weight  of  spices  to 
embalm  the  body  of  his  Lord.  Together  the  two  friends 
lower  the  Cross  to  the  ground ;  they  draw  out  the  iron 
spikes  from  the  hands  and  feet  of  Jesus,  and  reverently 
bathe  the  cruel  wounds  which  the  nails  and  spear  have 
made.  Very  tenderly  and  gently  they  do  their  work, 
though  Jesus  is  beyond  the  reach  of  pain  and  suffering 
now.  Then  they  wrap  His  body  in  the  fine  linen  with 
sweet-smelling  spices,  and  bear  it  away  to  burial. 

There  was  a  garden  near  Calvary  which  belonged  to 
Joseph,  and  in  it  a  new  tomb  which  had  been  cut  out  of 
the  solid  rock.  There  the  body  of  Jesus  is  laid  to  rest, 
among  the  flowers  that  He  loved.  It  was  growing  dusk. 
The  rays  of  the  setting  sun  were  striking  slantwise 
through  the  leafy  branches  of  the  trees.  Nothing  more 
could  be  done  now,  as  the  Sabbath  day  was  fast  drawing 
on.  Rolling  the  great  round  flat  stone  into  its  place 
before  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  Joseph  and  Nicodemus 
went  slowly  and  sadly  back  to  Jerusalem. 

In  the  garden  a  holy  peace  seemed  to  brood.  All 
was  quiet.  By  and  by,  like  tall  tapers  lighted  by  the 
angels  at  the  repose  of  Jesus,  the  stars  began  to  shine  out 
one  by  one.  The  gloom  and  darkness  of  Good  Friday 
had  passed  at  last  into  the  starry  brightness  of  Easter 
Eve. 


BOOK    IV 
THE    GLORY    BEYOND 


Like  a  meteor,  large  and  bright, 
Fell  a  golden  seed  of  light 
On  the  field  of  Christmas  night 

When  the  Babe  was  born  ; 
Then  'twas  sepulchred  in  gloom 
Till  above  His  holy  tomb 
Flashed  its  everlasting  bloom — 

Flower  of  Easter  morn.' 


THE  FIRST  EASTER  DAWN — THE  JOURNEY  TO  EMMAUS — 
JESUS  APPEARS  TO  HIS  DISCIPLES  IN  THE  UPPER 
ROOM 

Day  is  dawning,  the  day  of  quiet  rest.  In  the  rock- 
hewn  tomb  of  Joseph,  surrounded  by  its  leafy  shrubs 
and  sweet-smelling  flowers,  the  body  of  Jesus  rests.  How 
little  rest  He  had  while  He  was  alive  !  Who  ever  worked 
so  hard  as  Jesus  did  ?  Now  rest  comes  after  labour,  and 
He  finds  it  in  a  garden  grave.  *  In  a  garden  the  first 
Adam  lost  his  rest ;  in  a  garden  the  second  Adam  finds 
His,  at  last.' 

What  a  day  of  gloom  and  sadness  that  Sabbath  day 
must  have  been  for  Jesus'  friends  !  Their  joy  in  life  was 
gone;  their  sun  had  set;  no  star  of  hope  shone  through 
their  cypress-trees ;  all  was  darkness  and  despair  and 
bitter,  unavailing  sorrow. 

The  holy  women  had  followed  the  body  of  their  Lord 
on  its  way  to  the  grave,  and  had  then  returned  home  to 
prepare  spices  and  ointments  to  complete  the  embalming 
which  Joseph  and  Nicodemus  had  begun.  Their  sad 
thoughts  were  all  of  death  ;  they  had  forgotten  Jesus' 
promise  that  on  the  third  day  He  would  rise  again  from 
the  dead.  But  Jesus'  enemies  had  not  forgotten.  Though 
they  had  won  their  triumph,  a  new  fear  had  begun  to  vex 
and  harass  them.  What  if  Jesus  were  to  keep  His  word  ? 
Or,— if  that  were  unlikely— what  if  His  disciples  should 


392  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

pretend  He  had  kept  it,  and,  under  cover  of  night,  steal 
into  the  garden  and  bear  away  His  body,  and  give  out 
that  He  had  risen  ?  Going  to  Pilate,  the  chief  priests  and 
Pharisees  beg  that  a  guard  may  be  set  over  Joseph's 
tomb,  that  so  it  may  be  made  sure  until  the  third  day. 

Was  he  never  to  be  rid  of  this  Jesus,  Pilate  wonders  ? 
With  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders  he  bids  them  take  a  guard 
of  soldiers  and  make  the  sepulchre  as  sure  as  they  can. 

Presently  as  the  Sabbath  draws  near  its  end,  the  quiet 
of  Joseph's  garden  is  broken  by  the  tramp  of  armed  men. 
A  band  of  Roman  soldiers  make  their  way  through  the 
trees ;  they  halt  in  front  of  Jesus'  grave.  Across  the 
great  stone  disc  that  closes  its  entrance  they  stretch  a 
cord,  sealing  it  at  each  end  with  the  seal  of  the  Roman 
Governor,  to  tamper  with  which  meant  death. 

Once  more  darkness  falls,  and  the  stars  come  out. 
The  soldiers  light  a  fire.  Seated  on  the  ground,  with  their 
arms  piled  around  them,  they  keep  their  watch  during 
the  long  silent  hours  of  the  night.  Nothing  happens 
until  towards  morning,  and  then  an  awful,  startling  thing 
takes  place.  Suddenly  the  earth  begins  to  tremble  and 
shake,  and  as  they  start  up  in  alarm  the  soldiers  see  a 
wondrous  sight.  A  flash  of  dazzling  light  illumines  the 
darkness,  and,  in  a  burst  of  glory,  an  angel  of  God  de- 
scends from  Heaven  and  rolls  away  the  stone  from  the 
door  of  the  sepulchre.  Stunned  and  blinded  the  soldiers 
fall  to  the  ground  like  dead  men.  The  tomb  is  empty ; 
the  body  of  Jesus  is  gone  ! 

Afar  off  a  sorrowful  little  company  of  women  are 
making  their  way  to  Calvary  through  the  city  gate, 
bearing  in  their  hands  perfumes  and  spices,  to  perform 
the  last  sad  offices  of  love  for  Him  whose  death  had  left 
them  desolate. 

As  they  draw  to  the  garden  a  sudden  fear  chills  their 


THE   RESURRECTIOX 


THE  ANGEL  AT  THE  GRAVE  393 

hearts.  They  had  forgotten  the  great  round  stone  in 
front  of  Jesus'  grave.  There  before  them  they  seem  to 
see  it,  looming  in  the  darkness,  shutting  them  off  hope- 
lessly, as  it  seemed,  from  the  dead  body  of  their  Lord. 

*  Who  shall  roll  us  away  the  stone  from  the  door  of 
the  sepulchre  ? '  they  inquire  anxiously  of  one  another. 
But  even  as  they  speak,  the  darkness  lifts,  and  in  the 
dim  light  of  the  early  dawn  they  see  that  the  stone,  which 
they  feared  they  could  not  move,  had  been  rolled  away. 
The  seal  was  broken,  the  guard  was  fled. 

Upon  this,  Mary  JNIagdalene  breaks  away  from  the 
other  women  and  runs  swiftly  back  to  Jerusalem,  to  tell 
St.  Peter  and  St.  John  what  had  happened.  Meanwhile, 
wondering  and  astonished,  Mary  the  wife  of  Cleopas, 
with  Salome,  Joanna,  and  the  rest,  approach  the  tomb's 
mouth.  They  bend  down  to  look  into  it,  and  they  see 
that  Jesus'  body  is  no  longer  there. 

And  yet  the  grave  is  not  altogether  empty.  Gradu- 
ally out  of  the  gloom  of  the  cave  grow  the  lovely  forms 
of  two  angels.  They  are  clothed  in  silver,  and  their 
shining  wings  are  tipped  with  the  rosy  colours  of  the 
dawn.  As  the  women  fall  down  with  their  faces  to  the 
earth,  one  of  the  angels  speaks,  bidding  them  lay  aside 
their  fears,  for  he  has  been  sent  to  bring  them  glad 
tidings  of  Jesus'  Resurrection.  '  Fear  not  ye,'  come  his 
words,  '  for  1  know  that  ye  seek  Jesus,  which  was  cruci- 
fied. He  is  not  here  :  for  He  is  risen,  as  He  said.  Come, 
see  the  place  where  the  Lord  lay.'  Oh,  when  had  angel 
ever  before  brought  sad,  aching  hearts  such  glad  tidings 
as  these  ? 

Hastily  rising  to  their  feet,  their  faces  bright  with  a 
new  and  Heavenly  joy,  the  women  leave  their  spices  at 
the  grave,  and  depart  in  haste  to  bring  the  news  to  the 
disciples. 


394  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Now  St.  Peter  and  St.  John  were  sitting  together 
in  their  humble  lodging,  waiting  with  dull,  aching  hearts 
for  another  dawn  to  break,  when  Mary  Magdalene  burst 
in  upon  them.  *  They  have  taken  away  the  Lord  out 
of  the  sepulchre,' she  cries  in  breathless  tones,  'and  we 
know  not  where  they  have  laid  Him.' 

No  sooner  do  they  hear  this  unexpected  news  than 
the  disciples  at  once  start  up  and  begin  to  run  towards 
the  garden  grave.  As  they  ran,  St.  John,  who  was  the 
younger  of  the  two,  outdistanced  his  friend,  and  came  to 
the  sepulchre  first.  By  this  time  the  sun  was  up,  and 
the  garden  with  its  blossoming  trees  and  beds  of  odorous 
lilies  lay  green  and  beautiful  beneath  the  early  morning 
light.  By  the  tomb-side  lay  the  great  stone,  just  as 
JNIary  had  said,  and  St.  John  as  he  stooped  down  to  look 
into  the  grave  could  see  the  linen  clothes  in  which  Jesus' 
body  had  been  wrapped,  lying  all  undisturbed  upon  their 
rocky  shelf,  but  the  body  itself  had  gone. 

Another  moment  and  St.  Peter  comes  up.  He  is  too 
full  of  wonder  to  remain  standing  outside  the  tomb  ;  he 
must  needs  go  in,  and  see  for  himself,  and  try  to  unveil  the 
mystery.  And  so  he  enters  the  cave  and  stands  looking 
eagerly  around  him.  There  lie  the  linen  clothes  which 
St.  John  had  already  seen,  and,  rolled  a  little  apart,  the 
white  cloth  which  had  been  folded  around  Jesus'  head. 
It  was  just  as  it  had  been  left — the  knots  were  still 
untied — its  shape  was  quite  unaltered.  The  risen  body 
of  Jesus  had  passed  through  the  grave-clothes,  just  as  it 
had  passed  through  the  stone  which  the  angel  had  after- 
wards rolled  away. 

Then  St.  John  entered  the  tomb  as  well,  and  as  he 
looked  upon  the  clothes  the  truth  flashed  upon  him. 
Jesus  who  had  been  dead  was  alive ;  He  had  risen  again ! 

As  the  two  disciples  hastened  back  to  Jerusalem  with 


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THE   ANCKL   AT   THK   SEI'fl.CHRK 


MARY  AND  THE  RISEN  LORD  395 

tlie  news  of  the  wonderful  things  that  they  had  seen, 
Mary  Magdalene  once  more  drew  near  the  garden  grave. 
Just  as  the  mother  bird  hovers  round  the  nest  from  which 
her  young  ones  have  been  taken,  so  she  could  not  keep 
away  from  the  place  that  once  had  held  the  dear,  dead 
body  of  her  Lord. 

Sadly  INIary  stood  at  the  door  of  the  sepulchre,  and, 
as  she  stood,  her  tears  fell  fast  upon  the  lilies  at  her  feet. 
O  cruel  malice  of  Jesus'  enemies,  that  could  not  leave 
even  His  dead  body  to  rest  in  peace !  Whither  had  it 
been  carried ;  in  what  deserted,  lonely  place  was  it  lying 
now? 

Weeping,  she  stoops  to  look  into  the  sepulchre,  and 
as  she  looks  she  sees  two  angels  in  white  sitting,  the  one 
at  the  head,  and  the  other  at  the  feet,  where  the  body  of 
Jesus  had  lain. 

'  Woman,  why  weepest  thou  ? '  she  hears  them  say. 
Strange  to  say,  Mary  does  not  seem  even  surprised  at  the 
sight  of  angels  in  a  grave ;  her  heart  is  so  dulled  by  pain 
and  so  full  of  the  thought  of  her  loss,  that  there  does  not 
seem  room  for  any  feeling  qf  astonishment.  And  so  she 
answers  simply,  '  Because  they  have  taken  away  my 
Lord,  and  I  know  not  where  they  have  laid  Him.' 

As  she  speaks  a  shadow  falls  over  her  shoulder;  she 
sees  the  faces  of  the  angels  change.  They  are  looking 
at  something — some  one — behind  her.  Turning  round 
quiclly  she  sees — Jesus. 

Yes,  there  He  stood,  the  Risen  Lord,  His  face  aglow 
with  tenderness  and  love,  His  figure  bathed  in  the  glory 
of  the  Resurrection  light.  '  Woman,  why  weepest  thou? 
whom  seekest  thou  ? '  He  gently  says. 

INLiry  did  not  know  Jesus ;  He  was  the  very  last 
person  she  expected  to  see ;  besides,  her  eyes  were  too 
blurred  and  dimmed  with  tears  for  vision.     Doubtless 


396  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

this  was  the  gardener,  she  thought,  come  m  the  early- 
dawn  to  tend  the  rock-roses  and  the  HHes  and  the  other 
lovely  flowers  that  grew  about  the  grave. 

'  Sir,'  she  said,  with  sad  and  tremulous  voice, '  if  thou 
have  borne  Him  hence,  tell  me  where  thou  hast  laid  Him, 
and  I  will  take  Him  away.'  Jesus  spoke  one  word, 
'Mary.'  Then  Mary  understood.  She  turned,  and 
stretching  out  her  arms,  she  fell  at  His  feet  with  the 
cry,  '  Rabboni — oh,  my  Master  ! ' 

Jesus  had  not  come  back  to  earth  to  be  with  His 
disciples  just  as  He  had  been  before.  He  was  changed, 
He  was  glorified.  Mary  must  learn  to  look  upon  Him  as 
something  more  than  a  beloved  friend  given  back  to  her 
from  death.  Jesus  was  her  Friend  and  Master ;  yes,  but 
He  was  also  her  Saviour  and  her  God. 

'  Lay  not  hold  of  Me,'  come  His  words,  '  for  I  am  not 
yet  ascended  to  My  Father  ;  but  go  to  My  brethren,  and 
say  unto  them,  I  ascend  unto  My  Father,  and  your 
Father ;  and  to  My  God,  and  your  God.' 

As  Jesus  spoke  He  passed  away  from  Mary's  eyes. 

Her  tears  were  all  dried  now.  ('  Heaviness  may- 
endure  for  a  night,'  sang  David  of  old,  '  but  joy  cometh 
in  the  morning.')  Forthwith  she  ran  to  bring  the 
disciples  word  that  the  Master  was  alive,  that  she  had 
seen  Him  with  her  eyes,  and  that  He  had  talked  with 
her.  It  was  to  the  little  band  of  women,  to  whom 
God's  angel  had  showed  the  empty  grave,  that  Jesus 
next  appeared. 

They  were  hastening  back  to  Jerusalem,  when 
suddenly  the  King  stood  before  them  in  the  way, 
glorious  in  His  Risen  Majesty,  and  they  heard  His  voice, 
like  the  sound  of  many  waters,  bidding  them  '  All  hail ! ' 

Overcome  with  awe  and  wonder,  they  too  fell  at  Jesus' 
feet,  and  clasped  them  with   their  hands.     And  Jesus 


THE  JOURNEY  TO  EMMAUS  397 

calmed  their  fears  and  sent  them  forth  to  bear  the  glad 
tidings  to  the  disciples,  that  He  had  risen  from  the  dead 
and  that  they  should  meet  Him  again  in  Galilee. 

After  this  Jesus  appeared  to  Simon  Peter.  The  Bible 
is  silent  about  that  appearance — there  are  some  things 
almost  too  beautiful  and  tender  to  be  described.  AVe 
can  only  dimly  picture  to  ourselves  the  meeting  between 
the  sorrowing  repentant  apostle  and  the  Risen  Lord. 

Very  sacred,  very  wonderful,  must  that  meeting  have 
been  ;  the  very  thought  of  it  fills  our  eyes  with  tears. 

Meanwhile  the  soldiers,  who  had  fled  in  terror  from 
the  garden,  had  found  their  way  to  Jerusalem,  and 
standing  before  the  Jewish  Council  pour  into  their  ears 
the  strange  story  of  the  earthquake,  the  angel's  visit,  and 
the  empty  tomb.  As  they  speak,  fear  and  consternation 
sit  on  every  face.  What  is  to  be  done  ?  The  only 
possible  thing,  it  seems,  is  to  bribe  these  tell-tale 
witnesses  to  keep  back  the  truth.  So  the  chief  priests 
and  elders  pour  gold  into  the  soldiers'  hands  and 
bid  them  give  out  that  while  they  slept  the  disciples 
came  and  stole  aw^ay  the  body  of  Jesus.  Perhaps  the 
story  might  come  to  Pilate's  ears,  but  even  so  the  soldiers 
need  not  be  afraid.  They  would  not  be  punished  for 
having  slept  at  their  posts — the  council  would  see  to 
that.  And  so  the  soldiers  take  the  gold  and  agree  to  tell 
the  lie,  w^hile  chief  priest  and  elder,  with  sinking  hearts, 
try  hard  to  persuade  themselves  that  there  must  be  some 
mistake,  and  that  Jesus  could  not  possibly  have  arisen. 

By  this  time  the  glad  Easter  morning  had  worn  away, 
and  now  it  is  afternoon.  Two  of  Jesus'  disciples,  Cleopas 
and  another  nameless  disciple — perhaps  St.  Luke  himself 
who  tells  the  story — are  passing  along  the  mountain 
road  on  the  way  to  their  country  home  of  Emmaus,  a 
little  village  about  eight  miles  from  Jerusalem.     They 


398  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

were  not  sorry  to  breathe  the  pure  sweet  air  of  the 
countryside  once  more.  Jerusalem  had  become  a  dread- 
ful place  to  them ;  every  sight  and  sound  within  its  walls 
reminded  them  of  the  wicked  deed  that  had  sent  Jesus 
to  the  Cross,  and  robbed  them  of  the  best  and  dearest 
Friend  man  ever  had. 

Soft  and  pleasant  was  the  breeze  that  blew  across  the 
hills.  The  birds  sang  their  madrigals  among  the  branches 
of  the  wayside  trees ;  the  fields  were  green  with  the 
springing  corn,  and  in  the  hedge-rows  the  lovely  spring 
flowers  blossomed. 

Everything  around  them  spoke  of  resurrection  from 
the  dead  and  the  joy  of  life,  yet  the  hearts  of  the  disciples 
were  heavy  as  they  walked. 

Always  the  Cross  seemed  to  hang  before  their  eyes 
—  the  blood  -  stained  Cross,  and  the  garden  grave 
beyond  it,  in  which  all  their  dearest  hopes  lay  buried. 
Jesus  their  Master  was  dead ;  they  would  never  see  Him 
again — that  was  the  thought  which  lay  like  a  dark 
shadow  upon  their  hearts.  Oh,  how  they  felt  His  loss! 
It  seemed  as  though  it  would  never  be  summer  weather 
with  them  again. 

As  they  talked  together  in  low,  sad  tones,  suddenly 
they  found  a  fellow-traveller  walking  at  their  side.  They 
had  not  passed  him  upon  the  road  or  seen  him  walking 
towards  them.  Whence  had  he  come?  In  answer  to 
their  startled,  inquiring  gaze  the  stranger  speaks,  but  only 
to  ask  in  kindly  tones  the  subject  of  their  talk,  and  why 
they  looked  so  sad. 

There  was  something  in  his  voice,  something  in  the 
gentle,  sympathising  look  he  bent  upon  them,  which  told 
the  disciples  that  they  had  found  a  friend,  and  almost 
before  they  know  it,  they  are  opening  their  hearts  to  him 
and  telling  him  the  story  of  their  loss.     Jesus  was  dead. 


THE  JOURNEY  TO  EMMAUS  399 

the  great  Prophet  whose  words  and  works  had  filled 
men's  hearts  with  wonder ;  the  Jewish  rulers  had  nailed 
Him  to  the  Cross.  And  His  disciples  had  trusted, — O 
the  bitterness  of  their  disappointment! — that  it  had  been 
He  which  should  have  redeemed  Israel.  Besides,  this 
was  the  third  day  since  His  death.  And  then  they  went 
on  to  speak  of  the  story  the  woman  had  brought  back  of 
an  empty  tomb  and  a  vision  of  angels,  which  said  that 
Jesus  was  alive.  An  idle  tale  it  seemed  to  be,  for  certain 
of  the  disciples  had  afterwards  visited  the  sepulchre,  and 
tliough  they  found  an  empty  tomb  they  saw  no  sign  of 
Jesus. 

Quietly  the  Unknown  Comrade  listened  to  the  dis- 
ciples' words,  and  then  He  opened  his  lips  and  began  to 
speak  to  them  of  the  Christ,  and  how  it  was  necessary 
that  He  should  enter  into  His  glory  through  the  gate  of 
suffering.  There  Avas  nothing  strange  in  the  thought. 
^Moses  and  all  the  prophets  had  foretold  that  it  should  be 
so,  for  thus  and  thus  had  they  written  of  the  Saviour  of 
the  world,  and  thus  and  thus  foretold  His  sorrow  and 
His  triumph. 

\^ery  sweet  and  full  of  comfort  were  the  Stranger's 
words,  and,  as  they  listened,  the  dark  shadow  upon  the 
disciples'  hearts  seemed  to  lift,  and  the  light  of  hope 
came  back. 

All  this  w^hile  their  steps  were  drawing  nearer  the 
little  village  of  Emmaus,  set  amid  the  bloom  and  green 
of  the  distant  hills.  It  was  growing  dusk  ;  already  the 
sun  had  gone  down  in  his  glory  like  a  king  with  a  golden 
crown.  In  listening  to  their  Companion's  talk  the  dis- 
ciples had  not  noticed  how  the  time  had  flown. 

As  they  entered  the  village,  the  Stranger  made  as 
though  He  would  have  gone  further.  But  Cleopas  and 
his  companion  felt  they  could  not  let  their  new  Friend 


400  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

go  just  yet.  *  Abide  with  us,'  they  said,  'for  it  is  toward 
evening,  and  the  day  is  far  spent,'  and  so,  yielding  to 
their  entreaties.  He  turns  aside  to  seek  the  shelter  of 
their  roof. 

There  in  the  courtyard  beneath  the  shade  of  some 
leafy  arbour  the  three  travellers  sit  down  to  rest.  How 
peaceful  and  quiet  everything  seems !  A  mellow  light 
floods  the  distant  hills  and  turns  to  misty  gold  the 
meadow-lands  where  the  sheep  are  feeding;  scarcely  a 
leaf  stirs  upon  the  trellis ;  one  by  one  through  the  quiet 
air  the  birds  fly  homeward  to  their  nests. 

Presently  the  evening  meal  is  spread.  And  now, 
rising  from  His  seat,  the  Stranger  moves  into  the  host's 
place,  and,  as  they  look  on  in  wonder,  the  disciples  see 
Him  take  the  bread  in  His  hands.  He  blesses  it,  He 
breaks  it  and  gives  it  to  them.  As  He  does  so  the  veil 
falls  from  their  eyes  and  they  know  Him.  It  is  Jesus 
Himself;  yes,  they  recognise  His  face  at  last;  and  see! 
there  are  the  very  marks  of  the  nails  in  His  hands. 
But  as  they  stretch  out  their  arms  towards  Him  with  a 
cry  of  joy,  lo  !  His  seat  is  empty.     He  has  vanished. 

O  the  gladness  and  joy  that  filled  the  disciples' 
hearts !  How  blind  they  had  been  !  They  might  have 
guessed  who  it  was.  '  Did  not  our  heart  burn  within 
us,'  they  say  to  each  other,  '  while  He  talked  with  us  by 
the  way  and  while  He  opened  to  us  the  Scriptures  ? ' 

Late  as  it  is  they  rise  up  in  haste  and  hurry  back  to 
Jerusalem  to  bring  the  apostles  word  that  Jesus,  whom 
they  had  mourned  as  dead,  had  conquered  death  and 
come  back  to  be  with  them  once  more.  On  beneath  the 
star-lit  skies  they  speed  with  eager  feet,  their  weariness 
forgotten  in  the  joy  of  bearing  so  glad  and  wonderful 
a  message.  The  gates  are  still  open  as  they  reach  the 
city.     Quickly  they  make  their  way  to  the  upper  room 


THE   SUPPKR   AT    EM.MAUS 


JESUS  IN  THE  UPPER  CHAMBER       401 

where  the  disciples  are  met  together,  to  talk  over  the 
strange  events  of  this  most  strange,  eventful  day. 

The  doors  are  bolted — for  danger  still  threatened  the 
friends  of  Jesus,  and  no  man's  life  was  safe — but  at  the 
voice  of  Cleopas  the  bolts  fly  back,  and  the  two  travellers 
burst  into  the  room. 

Even  before  they  have  time  to  speak,  the  glad  chorus 
of  the  disciples  breaks  out,  '  The  Lord  is  risen  indeed, 
and  hath  appeared  to  Simon.'  Then  they  tell  the  tale 
of  the  Unknown  Comrade,  and  how  Jesus  '  in  another 
form'  had  walked  with  them  along  the  mountain -path 
to  Emmaus,  and  had  made  Himself  known  to  them  in 
the  breaking  of  bread. 

Suddenly  in  the  midst  of  the  din  of  questioning, 
exclaiming  voices  there  comes  a  hush.  There  in  the 
midst  stands  Jesus.  The  doors  were  shut  and  barred. 
No  one  had  seen  Him  come.  *  Peace  be  unto  you,'  He 
says,  and  as  He  speaks  He  stretches  out  His  hands  in 
blessing. 

Oh,  whose  voice,  whose  form  was  this  ?  Trembling 
and  shrinking  back  the  disciples  gaze  with  fearful  eyes 
upon  the  awful  shining  figure  of  their  Lord.  Could  this 
be  in  very  truth  Jesus  Himself,  or  was  it  some  spirit 
come  down  to  them  from  Heaven?  As  they  stand 
wondering  and  afraid,  Jesus  speaks  again.  '  Why  are 
ye  troubled  ? '  He  asks ;  '  and  why  do  thoughts  arise  in 
your  hearts  ?  Behold  My  hands  and  My  feet,  that  it  is  I 
Myself:  handle  Me,  and  see;  for  a  spirit  hath  not  flesh 
and  bones,  as  ye  see  Me  liave.'  And  when  He  had  said 
this.  He  showed  them  His  hands  and  His  feet,  and  they 
saw  the  holes  the  cruel  spikes  had  made. 

Then  while  fear  still  fought  with  the  sudden  rush  of 
joy  that  began  to  fill  their  hearts  He  called  for  food,  and 
they  brought  Him  a  piece  of  broiled  fish  and  some  honey- 

2c 


402  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

comb — the  humble  fare  which  He  had  so  often  shared 
with  them  in  days  gone  by. 

And  He  took  them  and  did  eat  before  them.  Then 
at  last  their  doubts  fled  away.  It  was  no  phantom,  no 
spirit  after  all ;  it  was  their  dear,  dear  Master  Himself. 
He  was  alive.  He  had  come  back  to  them  !  Crowding 
round  Him,  we  seem  to  see  them  kneeling  at  His  feet, 
and  weeping  tears  of  penitence  and  joy. 

And  as  they  kneel  the  tender,  gracious  voice  of  the 
Risen  Lord  is  heard  again,  solemnly  giving  them  their 
commission  to  act  as  His  ambassadors :  '  Peace  be  unto 
you.  As  My  Father  hath  sent  Me,  even  so  send  I  you.' 
And  when  He  had  said  this.  He  breathed  on  them,  and 
said,  *  Receive  ye  the  Holy  Ghost.  Whosesoever  sins 
ye  remit,  they  are  remitted  unto  them ;  and  whosesoever 
sins  ye  retain,  they  are  retained.' 

Then  His  voice  died  away.  They  looked  up  at  Him 
as  they  knelt,  and  lo !  He  had  gone.  Unbarring  the 
door  they  went  forth.  The  morning  star  was  shining 
brightly  in  the  heavens.  The  first  Easter  Day  had  come 
to  an  end. 


II 


DOUBTING   THOMAS   AND  THE   RISEN  LORD — THE   MORNING 
ON    THE    LAKE — HOW    THE    KING    WENT    UP    TO    HEAVEN 

Among  the  little  circle  of  friends  and  disciples  of  Jesus 
to  whom  Easter  Day  had  brought  such  untold  joy  and 
happiness,  there  was  one  desolate  heart  that  still  remained 
uncomforted. 

Thomas,  called  Didymus,  or  the  Twin,  was  not  with 
the  disciples  when  Jesus  appeared  to  them  in  the  upper 
chamber.  His  grief  and  agony  of  mind  were  such  that 
he  had  not  the  heart  to  go  among  his  friends.  He  could 
not  even  bear  to  speak  of  what  had  happened.  He  wanted 
to  be  alone ;  and  so  he  shut  himself  up  in  his  solitary 
lodging  to  brood  in  blank,  stony  misery  over  the  cruel 
blow  that  had  robbed  him  of  his  Lord. 

And  now  the  report  was  abroad  that  Jesus  was  alive ! 

St.  Thomas  heard  the  news  quite  unmoved.  He  did 
not  beUeve  it.  It  was  not  the  way  of  St.  Thomas  to 
believe  good  news.  He  was  the  apostle  who  always 
looked  on  the  dark  side  of  things,  and  instead  of  hoping 
for  the  best,  ever  feared  the  worst. 

When,  a  little  before,  Jesus  had  proposed  to  leave  His 
safe  shelter  in  Perasa  to  go  to  Bethany,  it  was  St.  Thomas 
who  had  at  once  made  up  his  mind  that  they  were  all 
going  to  be  killed.  '  Let  us  also  go,'  he  had  said, 
'that  we  may  die  with  Him.'  So  when  the  disciples 
broke  in  upon  him  with  the  joyous  cry,  '  We  have  seen 
the  Lord,'  he  only  answered  with  a  deep-drawn  sigh  and 


404  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

mournful  shake  of  the  head.  It  was  all  a  mistake ;  the 
disciples  were  deceived.  They  would  never  persuade  him 
that  Jesus  had  really  risen.  In  vain  might  St.  John 
describe  how  the  Master  had  eaten  the  honeycomb  before 
their  eyes,  and  St.  Peter  repeat  the  very  words  He  had 
used;  St.  Thomas  was  not  to  be  convinced.  '  Except,'  he 
said,  *  I  shall  see  in  His  hands  the  print  of  the  nails,  and 
put  my  finger  into  the  print  of  the  nails,  and  thrust  my 
hand  into  His  side,  I  will  not  believe.' 

So  a  whole  week  went  by,  and  still  St.  Thomas  re- 
mained plunged  in  the  darkness  of  despair  and  nursing 
his  gloomy  doubts. 

Then  suddenly  the  light  broke,  and  his  doubts  were 
swept  away.  '  The  evening  of  the  first  day '  had  come 
round  again,  and  something — it  must  have  been  God's 
finger  —  drew  St.  Thomas  to  join  the  apostles  in  the 
upper  chamber. 

Once  more  the  doors  are  closely  barred  where  the 
disciples  are  gathered  together  for  fear  of  the  Jews. 
Prayer  has  been  offered  up  and  they  are  talking  quietly 
together,  perhaps  rehearsing  the  glad  events  of  Easter 
Day,  when  suddenly  the  room  seems  to  brighten, 
and  they  look  up,  and  there  in  their  midst  stands  Jesus, 
just  as  He  stood  on  the  first  Easter  evening — His  hands 
outstretched  in  blessing,  the  sweet  word  '  Peace '  once 
more  upon  His  lips  ! 

For  a  space  tlie  disciples  gaze  upon  the  splendid  Figure 
of  the  Risen  Lord  in  silent,  breathless  awe,  and  then 
Jesus  speaks.  His  eyes  are  turned  upon  St.  Thomas. 
'Reach  hither  thy  finger,'  He  says,  'and  behold  My 
hands ;  and  reach  hither  thy  hand,  and  thrust  it  into  My 
side :  and  be  not  faithless,  but  believing.' 

As  Jesus  spoke,  Thomas  saw  the  nail-prints  plainly 
enough  ;  he  saw,  too,  the  cruel  gash  the  Roman  spear  had 


THE  APPEARANCE  TO  ST.  THOMAS     405 

made,  but  he  made  no  attempt  to  stretch  out  his  hand. 
He  did  not  want  proofs  now.  From  where  he  stood  he 
had  ah-eady  touched  Jesus — only  not  with  his  fingers,  but 
with  his  heart. 

'  My  Lord  and  my  God,'  was  all  he  said.  And  then 
Jesus'  voice  broke  the  solemn  silence  once  again. 
'  Tliomas,'  He  said  sadly — and  yet  though  His  voice 
was  sad  there  was  a  very  tender,  gracious  light  in  His 
eyes,  for  He  knew  well  how  deeply  St.  Thomas  loved 
Him — '  Thomas,  because  thou  hast  seen  Me,  thou  hast 
believed :  blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen,  and  yet 
have  believed.' 

'  How  oft,  O  Lord,  Thy  Face  hath  shone 

On  doubting  souls  whose  wills  were  true ! 
Thou  Christ  of  Cephas  and  of  John, 
Thou  art  the  Christ  of  Thomas  too. 


His  brethren's  word  he  would  not  take 

But  craved  to  touch  those  Hands  of  Thine : 

The  bruised  reed  Thou  didst  not  break ; 
He  saw,  and  hailed  His  Lord  Divine. 

O  Saviour,  make  Thy  Presence  known 
To  all  who  doubt  Thy  Word  and  Thee, 

And  teach  them  in  that  Word  alone 
To  find  the  truth  that  sets  them  free. 

And  we  who  know  how  true  Thou  art, 

And  Thee  as  God  and  Lord  adore, 
Give  us,  we  pray,  a  loyal  heart 

To  trust  and  love  Thee  more  and  more.' 

From  Jerusalem,  in  obedience  to  the  Risen  Lord's 
commands,  the  disciples  went  back  again  to  Galilee. 
Jesus  had  promised  to  meet  them  there,  and  they 
went  to  await  His  coming,  though  they  did  not  know 
when  He  would  come,  or  in  what  form  He  might  appear. 
It  was  natural  that  they  should  find  their  way  back  to 


406  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

Capernaum  and  the  Lake  of  Galilee  once  more.  What 
great  events  had  happened  since  last  they  had  trodden 
the  shores  of  the  silver  sea  and  cast  their  nets  upon  its 
moonlit  waters !  O  the  happy  days  gone  by  when  Jesus 
sat  with  them  in  the  boat,  and  they  listened  to  His 
gracious,  golden  words,  while  the  fresh  sea-breeze  sang 
in  the  sail,  and  the  water  lapped  against  the  vessel's  sides  ! 
There  ran  the  road  along  the  shore,  beneath  the  shadow 
of  whose  trees  He  would  so  often  walk ;  there  rose  the 
far-off  mountain-peak  from  which  He  had  watched  their 
battle  with  the  storm !  As  they  hoisted  sail  and  dipped 
their  oars  in  the  clear  waters  of  the  lake,  they  felt  at 
times  like  men  in  a  dream.  Had  the  old  days  come  back 
again  ?  Should  they  wake  presently  to  find  Jesus,  their 
dear  Master,  with  them  in  the  boat  ? 

One  evening  as  the  sun's  rim  dips  and  the  shadows 
begin  to  gather,  St.  Peter  decides  to  go  a-fishing.  By 
this  time  the  bag  which  Judas  used  to  carry  was  empty, 
and  the  apostles  had  gone  back  to  their  old  trade  as 
fishermen,  in  order  to  gain  a  living  for  themselves.  The 
night  seemed  to  promise  well  for  fishing,  and  the  other 
disciples  decide  to  go  as  well,  and  presently  the  boat  is 
launched  and  lies  tossing  far  out  at  sea,  while  the  fisher- 
men prepare  to  let  down  their  nets  for  a  draught.  But 
that  night,  toil  as  they  may,  they  are  fated  to  catch  nothing. 
Time  after  time  they  cast  and  draw  in  their  nets,  but 
not  a  single  fish  is  taken.  At  last,  weary  and  dispirited, 
chilled  by  the  night  wind,  and  drenched  by  the  salt  sea 
spray,  they  gather  their  nets  together  and  begin  to  row 
towards  the  shore. 

It  was  now  early  morning.  The  dawn  had  not  yet 
begun  to  break,  and  a  grey  mist  lay  upon  the  shore  and 
shrouded  the  summits  of  the  distant  mountains;  but 
every  minute  it  was  growing  lighter,  and  already  the 


THE  MORNING  ON  THE  LAKE  407 

sullen  waters  of  the  lake  were  being  touched  to  tender 
shades  of  pearl  and  silver.  As  they  drew  near  the  land 
they  saw  a  Figure  standing  upon  the  beach.  It  was 
Jesus,  but  in  the  dim,  uncertain  light  they  did  not  know 
Him  at  first ;  perhaps — as  when  He  walked  with  the  two 
disciples  to  Emmaus — He  did  not  will  that  they  should 
know  Him. 

'  Children,'  came  His  voice  to  them  over  the  waters, 
*  have  ye  aught  to  eat  ? '  It  was  no  doubt,  they  thought, 
some  stranger,  asking  them  news  of  their  night's  catch. 
'  No,'  they  called  out  in  answer.  And  then  the  Stranger 
spoke  again,  *  Cast  the  net  on  the  right  side  of  the  ship, 
and  ye  shall  find.' 

The  disciples  knew  that  sometimes  the  presence  of  a 
shoal  of  fish  could  be  detected  from  the  shore  by  the 
deeper  colour  of  the  water,  though  the  fishermen  them- 
selves might  know  nothing  of  it,  and  so  they  at  once  let 
down  the  net  as  they  were  directed.  And  now  the  net 
enclosed  in  its  meshes  so  great  a  multitude  of  fish  that 
even  the  strong  arms  of  the  disciples  were  powerless  to 
draw  it  in. 

Like  a  flash  St.  John's  thoughts  travelled  back  to 
another  morning  scene  on  the  lake,  when  Jesus  had  been 
with  them  in  the  boat,  and  had  filled  their  nets  when  they 
themselves  had  lost  all  hopes  of  filling  them.  He  looked 
long  and  earnestly  at  the  Figure  on  the  beach.  '  It  is  the 
Lord  ! '  he  whispered  eagerly  to  St.  Peter. 

AVhen  St.  Peter  heard  these  words  his  heart  gave  a 
great  leap.  He  could  not  wait  for  the  boat  to  beach 
itself.  Girding  his  rough  fisher's  coat  about  him,  he 
plunged  into  the  sea  and  swam  to  the  shore.  Meanwhile 
the  other  disciples  followed  in  the  little  skiff  which  their 
boat  towed  in  its  wake,  dragging  the  net  full  of  fishes. 

When  they  had  come  to  land  they  found  a  fire  burn* 


408  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

ing  on  the  hard  white  sand,  with  fish  laid  upon  it,  and 
bread. 

How  like  Jesus!  He  knew  how  tired  and  hungry 
and  cold  His  disciples  would  be  after  their  long  night's 
toil,  and  His  love  and  tenderness  had  led  Him  to  make 
this  provision  for  their  wants. 

'  Bring  of  the  fish  which  ye  have  now  caught,'  they 
hear  Him  say,  and  Simon  Peter,  eager  as  ever  to  be  the 
first  to  carry  out  his  Master's  orders,  hastens  to  the 
water's  edge  and  draws  the  net  to  land. 

Full  of  great  fishes  was  the  net,  in  number  an  hundred 
and  fifty  and  three,  and  for  all  there  were  so  many  its 
meshes  held,  not  a  fish  had  been  lost. 

Then  Jesus  bade  the  disciples  come  and  break  their 
fast,  and  as  they  gathered  around  the  fire  He  moved  in 
kingly  presence  amongst  them,  and  with  His  own  hands 
ministered  to  their  needs.  Very  full  of  joy  were  the 
disciples'  hearts — yet  very  full  of  awe  and  wonder  too — at 
this  meeting  with  their  Master.  No  one  spoke — no  one 
dared  to  speak.  With  humble,  adoring  eyes  they  watched 
His  every  movement,  awaiting  His  commands,  wondering 
what  His  Presence  by  the  sea  might  mean. 

Presently  the  morning  meal  comes  to  an  end,  and 
Jesus  turns  to  read  a  lesson  to  St.  Peter,  His  '  wild,  way- 
ward scholar,'  as  some  one  calls  him. 

'  Simon,  son  of  Jonas,'  He  says,  calling  St.  Peter  by 
his  old  name  as  though  to  remind  him  that  through  his 
cowardice  he  had  lost  his  claim  to  the  name  of  Peter  the 
Rock — '  Simon,  son  of  Jonas,  lovest  thou  INIe  more  than 
these  ? ' 

St.  Peter  had  liked  to  think  in  the  old  days  before  his 
fall  that  he  loved  Jesus  better  than  the  rest,  but  he  had 
learned  to  think  more  humbly  of  himself  since  that  terrible 
night  when  he  had  denied  his  Master  with  an  oath.    And 


THE  MORNING  ON  THE  LAKE  409 

so,  without  daring  to  compare  himself  with  his  friends, 
with  a  wistful  look  at  Jesus,  he  answers  gently,  *  Yea, 
Lord  ;  Thou  knowest  that  I  love  Thee.' 

Then  Jesus  began  to  unfold  the  work  in  store  for 
Peter. 

'Feed  My  little  lambs,'  He  said.  In  other  words, 
*  Teach  the  children  to  love  and  follow  Me,  Peter,  who 
loved  and  died  for  them  upon  the  Cross.' 

And  when  He  had  said  this  He  put  the  question  once 
again,  '  Simon,  son  of  Jonas,  lovest  thou  Me  ? ' 

With  the  same  gentle  voice  and  appealing  look  St. 
Peter  answered  as  he  had  done  before,  '  Yea,  Lord  ;  Thou 
knowest  that  I  love  Thee,'  and  then  the  Good  Shepherd 
bade  him  tend  His  sheep.  The  little  lambs  were  to  be 
St.  Peter's  first  care,  and  then  the  rest  of  the  beautiful 
flock  that  God  had  given  the  Saviour  for  His  own. 

Three  times  St.  Peter  had  denied  his  Lord  and  three 
times  he  must  be  put  to  the  test.  In  grave  and  tender 
tones  Jesus  speaks  yet  once  again,  '  Simon,  son  of  Jonas, 
lovest  thou  Me  ? ' 

In  the  Greek  there  are  two  words  for  love.  Jesus  had 
hitherto  used  the  higher  and  more  divine  word,  while 
Peter  in  his  humility  had  been  content  to  use  the  lower 
and  more  human  one.  But  now  Jesus  adopts  the  very 
word  St.  Peter  uses.  It  almost  seemed  as  though  there 
was  a  doubt  in  His  mind  whether  St.  Peter  really  loved 
Him,  even  with  the  lower  kind  of  love  which  he  professed. 

By  this  time  Peter's  face  had  grown  very  sad.  His 
voice  faltered.  '  Lord,'  he  said  unsteadily,  *  Thou  knowest 
all  things  ;  Thou  knowest  that  I  love  Thee.'  And  Jesus 
answered,  '  Feed  My  sheep.' 

Jesus  had  long  ago  forgiven  Peter.  He  knew  well 
— none  better — how  deep  and  heartfelt  his  repentance 
was,  and  how  real  and  true  his  love.     He  had  spoken  to 


410  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

remind  him  tiiat  his  repentance  must  lead  to  action,  his 
love  must  be  shown  by  much  serving. 

Having  given  St.  Peter  his  commission,  Jesus  added 
these  solemn  words, '  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee.  When 
thou  wast  young,  thou  girdedst  thyself,  and  walkedst 
whither  thou  wouldest :  but  when  thou  shalt  be  old,  thou 
shalt  stretch  forth  thy  hands,  and  another  shall  gird  thee, 
and  carry  thee  whither  thou  wouldest  not' 

At  the  time,  perhaps,  St.  Peter  would  not  understand 
these  words,  but  in  after  days  they  would  come  back  to 
him,  and  then  he  would  understand. 

We  look  on  a  few  years.  In  the  dim  light  of  a 
prison  cell,  an  old  man  sits  patiently  awaiting  his 
summons  to  depart.  There  is  a  tramp  of  armed  men 
without.  The  door  of  his  dungeon  opens  and  a  cen- 
turion and  his  soldiers  enter.  The  prisoner  starts  up. 
It  is  St.  Peter.  He  stretches  forth  his  hands.  They 
bind  him  and  lead  him  forth  to  die  upon  the  cross. 
When  he  reaches  the  place  of  execution  he  begs 
earnestly  that  he  may  be  crucified  with  his  head  towards 
the  ground.  He  is  not  worthy,  he  says,  to  suffer 
death  after  the  same  fashion  as  his  Master  suffered  it. 
So  he  mounts  the  cross,  and  presently  his  soul  goes  up 
the  shining  way  to  God,  and  he  wins  the  martyr's  crown. 

After  this,  Jesus,  speaking  again  to  St.  Peter,  said, 
*  Follow  Me.' 

It  was  the  old  command  that  had  come  to  Simon  the 
fisherman  by  the  lake,  when  Jesus  had  first  chosen  him  to 
be  His  disciple.  Now  that  by  God's  grace  he  had  made  a 
fresh  start,  he  must  press  bravely  on  in  the  footsteps  of 
his  Lord.  There  must  be  no  more  denials,  no  more 
faltering,  no  more  turning  back  now.  Gladly  and 
proudly  St.  Peter  walked  by  his  Master's  side.  Presently 
looking  back  he  saw  St.  John  following.     Here  was  one 


THE  MEETING  UPON  THE  MOUNTAIN    411 

who  was  nearer  and  dearer  to  Jesus  perhaps  than  any 
other  earthly  friend.  What  had  Jesus  in  store  for  him, 
he  wondered.  '  Lord,'  he  said,  '  and  what  shall  this  man 
do  ? '  But  Jesus  had  no  word  to  speak  to  Peter  about 
the  life-work  of  St.  John.  It  was  not  for  St.  Peter 
to  pry  too  curiously  into  matters  which  were  not  his 
concern.  *  If  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  I  come,'  He 
answered,  *  what  is  that  to  thee  ?     Follow  thou  ]\Ie.' 

AVe  are  told  that  afterwards  the  disciples  of  Jesus 
took  these  words  to  mean  that  St.  John  was  not  to  die ; 
but  Jesus  did  not  say  this,  as  St.  John  himself  points  out. 
What  He  did  was  to  tell  St.  Peter  to  be  satisfied  with 
doing  his  appointed  work,  and  to  leave  the  future  of  his 
friend  with  God. 

St.  John's  life,  in  the  end,  turned  out  to  be  a  very 
long  and  eventful  one.  He  lived  to  serve  his  Master  and 
to  light  the  battle  of  the  faith  for  many  years  after  the 
rest  of  the  apostles  had  been  called  away.  Then  when 
death  came  to  him,  it  came  in  very  gentle,  loving  guise. 
AVhen  old  and  weary  and  grey-headed,  '  God's  finger 
touched  him,  and  he  slept.'  A  lovely  legend  tells 
us  that  when  too  old  and  feeble  to  walk,  he  would  be 
carried  into  the  church  to  address  his  people,  and  that 
his  message  was  always  this,  'Little  children,  love  one 
another.'  It  is  said  that  these  were  the  last  words  he 
uttered  as  he  died. 

'  The  beautiful  part  of  the  wonder  was  that  Jesus 
seemed  to  care  for  the  same  things  that  He  used  to  care 
for  before  He  died  ;  not  only  for  the  truths  and  friends, 
but  for  the  places  that  He  loved.' 

After  this  meeting  with  His  apostles  upon  the  shore 
of  the  lake,  He  met  them  again  upon  a  mountain  in 
Galilee — perhaps  the  Mount  of  the  Transfiguration — 
perhaps  the  green   hill  of  the   Beatitudes  where  three 


412  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

years  before  He  had  solemnly  called  them  to  His  service, 
and  laid  down  the  laws  of  the  kingdom  which  they  were 
to  help  Him  to  build. 

Tliis  time  the  apostles  were  not  alone.  The  royal 
command  had  gone  forth,  and  more  than  five  hundred 
disciples  were  gathered  together  to  meet  the  King.  As 
the  great  company  knelt  before  Him  upon  the  mountain- 
side with  rapt,  adoring  faces,  waiting  His  commands,  the 
King  spoke.  He  told  them  that  all  power  had  been 
given  Him  in  Heaven  and  in  earth,  and  bade  them  go 
forth  and  make  disciples  of  all  nations,  baptizing  them 
into  the  Name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  and  teaching  them  to  observe  His  laws. 
Through  all  the  changing  years  His  presence  should  be 
with  them  in  their  work.  His  promise  should  stand 
sure;  He  would  never  leave  them  nor  forsake  them. 
'  Lo,  I  am  wdth  you  all  the  days,'  He  said,  *  even  unto 
the  end  of  the  world.' 

Thus  for  forty  days  the  Risen  Lord  showed  Himself 
alive  to  His  disciples.  Oh,  with  what  deep  longing  must 
His  heart  have  kept  turning  all  that  while  towards  His 
Father's  Home !  Yet  He  was  in  no  haste  to  leave  the 
world  He  had  come  to  save.  His  throne  was  set  high 
amid  the  stars,  upon  its  '  paved  work  of  a  sapphire ' ; 
golden  harps  were  sounding,  angel  legions  were  hovering 
in  the  sky  to  bring  Him  Home  in  triumph  ;  yet  still  He 
lingered,  for  still  His  friends  had  need  of  Him.  The 
disciples  must  be  able  to  go  forth  and  preach  '  Jesus  and 
the  Resurrection '  without  any  shadow  of  doubt  that  He 
had  really  risen.  They  must  be  taught  new  lessons  about 
'  the  Kingdom  of  God  ' ;  they  must  be  counselled  how  to 
rule  the  Church  aright ;  they  must  be  advised  as  to  how 
the  perils  and  difficulties  which  lay  before  them  were  to 
be  met  and  conquered. 


THE  ASCENSION  413 

So  Jesus  remained  on  earth,  heartening,  comforting, 
teaching  His  apostles ;  and  then,  His  work  done,  the 
day  of  parting  came  at  last. 

The  Eleven  were  at  Jerusalem.  They  had  come  back 
again  from  the  uplands  of  sunny  Galilee  in  obedience  to 
their  Lord's  command,  to  await  the  coming  of  the  Com- 
forter whom  He  had  promised  to  send  them  from  the 
Father.  There  in  the  Holy  City  Jesus  appeared  to  them, 
and  for  the  last  time  led  them  out  of  the  city  gates. 
Together,  as  they  had  so  often  done  before,  they  crossed 
the  little  brawling  stream  that  tumbled  at  the  valley  foot, 
together  they  climbed  the  well-remembered  path  that  led 
over  the  green  hill  towards  Bethany. 

We  can  picture  the  scene  to  ourselves.  Evening 
is  coming  on.  The  wind  has  dropped  ;  not  a  breath 
ruffles  the  silver  of  the  olive-trees;  in  the  west  the 
angels  are  swinging  back  the  gates  of  gold  to  let  the 
sun  go  down. 

As  they  went  Jesus  spoke  to  His  disciples  of  the 
Kingdom  and  its  glories,  till  their  eyes  began  to  fill,  and 
their  hearts  to  burn  with  eager,  wistful  longing.  Had 
the  hour  struck  at  last  ?  Was  the  Christ  about  to  begin 
His  promised  reign  of  peace  and  righteousness  and  love  ? 

In  reply,  Jesus  told  them  that  this  was  God's  secret. 
They  would  have  to  wait  His  time.  But  at  the  same 
time,  to  hearten  them.  He  told  them  of  the  power  that 
should  be  theirs  through  the  outpouring  of  the  Blessed 
Spirit,  and  how  they  should  be  His  witnesses  both  in 
Jerusalem,  and  in  all  Judsea,  and  in  Samaria,  and  unto 
the  uttermost  part  of  the  earth. 

As  He  spoke  He  lifted  up  His  hands  and  solemnly 
blessed  them  while  they  knelt  down  at  His  feet.  And 
as  He  blessed  them  He  was  parted  from  them  and  began 
to  rise  into  the  clear  air.     His  voice  grew  faint.     It  died 


414  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 

away.  Higher  and  higher  they  watched  Him  rise  until 
a  bright  cloud  came,  like  a  golden  chariot,  and  bore  Him 
away,  and  they  saw  Him  no  more. 

Then  while  they  stood  rooted  to  the  spot,  looking  up 
into  the  empty  sky  with  wondering,  troubled  eyes,  two 
angels  in  white  apparel  appeared  at  their  side.  '  Ye  men 
of  Galilee,'  they  said,  'why  stand  ye  gazing  up  into 
Heaven  ?  This  same  Jesus  which  is  taken  up  from  you 
into  Heaven  shall  so  come  in  like  manner  as  ye  have  seen 
Him  go  into  Heaven.' 

With  this  the  apostles  turned  to  go  back  to  Jerusalem ; 
but  not  in  sorrow  of  heart  or  in  wonder  now.  Their  faces 
were  bright  with  Heavenly  joy.  Jesus,  their  INIaster,  had 
gone  to  His  Father,  as  He  said.  Sadness  and  suffering 
could  never  touch  Him  now.  He  had  gone,  but  not  to 
forget  them,  nor  to  lose  sight  of  them.  Hidden  from 
their  eyes  His  Presence  would  be  ever  with  them. 
Through  storm  and  sunshine,  in  sorrow  and  in  joy.  He 
would  guide  and  defend  His  Church.  By  and  by,  as 
the  angels  had  reminded  them,  and  as  He  Himself  had 
said.  He  would  come  again  and  receive  them  unto 
Himself. 

So  '  they  worshipped  Him,  and  returned  to  Jerusalem 
with  great  joy,  and  were  continually  in  the  Temple, 
praising  and  blessing  God.' 

Dear  child,  if  the  cloud  that  hid  Jesus  from  the  eyes 
of  His  apostles  still  hides  Him  from  our  sight  to-day, 
yet  the  thought  which  brought  them  gladness  may  bring 
us  gladness  too.  We  are  not  left  to  fight  the  hard 
battle  and  bear  the  heavy  cross  alone.  We  have  a  Friend 
in  Heaven — One  who  has  gone  to  prepare  a  place  for  us, 
who  ever  lives  to  make  intercession  for  us,  and  who  '  is 
able  also  to  save  them  to  the  uttermost  that  come  unto 
God  by  Him.' 


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THE   ASCENSIOX 


THE  ASCENSION  415 

Jesus  our  great  High  Priest  'is  passed  into  the 
Heavens,'  but  one  day  He  will  return. 

Not  yet  has  the  angels'  promise  been  fulfilled.  The 
years  roll  on  and  we  are  still  as  servants  who  Avait  for 
their  Lord.  But  we  wait  with  our  faces  turned  towards 
the  East — the  place  of  the  sun-rising. 

'  So  I  am  watching  quietly 

Every  day  ; 
Whenever  the  sun  shines  brightly 

I  rise  and  say — 
"  Sunlight  is  the  shining  of  His  Face  !  " 
And  look  into  the  gates  of  His  high  place 

Beyond  the  sea. 
For  I  know  He  is  coming  shortly. 

To  summon  me. 

And  when  a  shadow  falls  across  the  window 

Of  my  room. 
Where  I  am  working  my  appointed  task, 
I  lift  my  head  to  watch  the  door,  and  ask 

If  He  is  come. 
And  the  angel  answers  sweetly 

In  my  home, — 
"  Only  a  few  more  shadows, 
And  He  will  come."  ' 

Amen.     Even  so,  come,  Lord  Jesus. 


INDEX 


AbijaHj  'company'  of,  7. 

Alabaster  box  of  ointment,  the,  183-5. 

Andrew,   St.,  91,  92,   127,   162,   204, 

333,  846. 
Angel  stories,  the  Bible  ashine  with, 

5,  6,  H-9,  12,  23,  83,  355. 
Angels  at  the  grave  of  Jesus,  392-3  ; 

appearance  of,  after  the  Ascension, 

414. 
Anna  at  the  presentation  of  Jesus,  32, 

83. 
Annas,  the  high  priest,  357,  359. 
Anointing  of  Jesus'  feet,  303-5. 
Antonia,  Castle  of,  60. 
Apostles    commissioned,    the,    151-4, 

201-2,  409-14  ;  appearances  to,  after 

the  Resurrection,  393-412. 
Archelaus  (Herod's  son),  47,  300. 
Arrest  of  Jesus,  355-6. 
Ascension  of  our  Lord,  413-14. 

Baptism  of  Jesus,  78-9. 

Barabbas,  the  Jews  choose,  369-70. 

Bartholomew,  St.,  152. 

Bartimaeus  the  blind  beggar  of  Jericho, 

295-8. 
Beatitudes,  the,  156-7. 
'  Beautiful  Gate '  of  the  Temple,  62. 
Bethabara,  177,  285. 
Bethany,  the  home  of,  255-7,  302-5; 

310,  814,  317,  343-5,  413. 
Bethel,  19. 
Bethesda  ("the  house  of  mercy'),  the 

cripple  at  the  Pool  of,  165-6. 
Bethlehem,  birth  of  Jesus  at,  18-24. 
Bethphage  ('the  house  of  green  figs'), 

310. 
Bethsaida('thehouseoffish'),  92, 127. 

Julias,  203  ;  Jesus  at,  221. 

Blind  and  the  lame,  healing  the,  221, 

316. 
Bread  of  Life,  Christ  the,  211-12. 
Broad  and  narrow  way,  Jesus  describes 

the,  162-3. 


C^sarea-Philippi,    St.    Peter's    brave 

confession  at,  221-3. 
Caiaphas  the  high  priest,  290,  343,  367, 

359. 
Calvary,  Jesus  at,  374-87. 
Cana,  the  marriage  feast  of,  95-101  ; 

Jesus   heals  the  nobleman's  son  at, 

118-21. 
Capernaum,  Jesus'  home  at,  102-4,  119- 

26 ;    miracles    of  healing    at,    131- 

40;   141,   151,   188,   198,   206,   214, 

233. 
Cedron,  the  brook,  313,  352,  363. 
Census,  or  numbering  of  the  people, 

19. 
Centurion,  the,  at  the  Cross  of  Jesus, 

385,  386. 
Centurion's  servant,  healing  the,  170-2. 
Childhood  of  Jesus,  45-56. 
Children,  Jesus  loved  by,  234 ;  blesses 

the,  276-8;  the  little  singing,  316- 

17. 
Chorazin  ('the  woody  place'),  127. 
Christian  Church,  the  first,  348. 
Christmas,  the  first,  21-4. 

carol,  the  first,  23. 

Circumcision  of  Jesus,  the,  26. 
Claudia,  Pilate's  wife,  her  dream  about 

Jesus,  369. 
Commandment,  the  great,  327-8  ;  the 

new,  348. 
Common  tilings  of  life  made  glorious 

by  Jesus,  349-50. 
Communion,  Holy,  institution  of,  212  ; 

the  first,  348-50. 
Courses  or  companies  of  Temple  priests, 

7. 
Courts  of  the  Temple  : — 

Court  of  the  Gentiles,  62,  104, 

of  the  \V'omen,  62,  240,  330-1. 

of  Israel,  62. 

of  the  Priests,  62. 

Covetousness,    Jesus    warns    against, 

249-50. 


2d 


418 


THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 


Cripple  at  the  Pool  of  Bethesda,  the, 

165-6. 
Crippled  woman,  the,  251, 
Cross,  Christ's  call  to  His  followers  to 

bear  the,  22rl:-5  ;   to  the  Romans  a 

symbol  of  shame,  376. 
Crucifixion,  the,  375-87. 
Curtain  of  the  Temple,  63  ;  rent  at  the 

Crucifixion,  385. 

Darkness,  the  great,  at  the  Cruci- 
fixion, 382-3. 

Day  of  Atonement,  the,  63. 

of  Judgment  (or   '  Dies    Irae '), 

337. 

Deaf  and  dumb  man  cured,  the,  217. 

Death  the  gate  of  life,  333-4. 

Decapolis,  216,  217,  218,  333. 

Dedication,  Feast  of  the  (or  Feast  of 
Lights),  258-9. 

Demoniac  of  Gadara,  the,  195-7. 

Denarius  (a  silver  coin),  282,  825. 

Disciples,  the  two  first  (St.  Andrew 
and  St.  Simon  Peter),  91-3  ;  the  call 
to  the  twelve,  151 ;  their  names, 
152  ;  diiFerences  of  character,  152-3  ; 
their  poverty  and  humility,  153-4 ; 
pluck  the  ears  of  corn  on  the  Sab- 
bath, 167-8 ;  their  faintheartedness, 
222,  291-2 ;  dispute  pre-eminence, 
233-4,  345-6;  in  the  Garden  of 
Gethsemane,  352-5  ;  appearances  to, 
after  the  Resurrection,  393-412  ;  the 
five  hundred,  412. 

Diseased  and  the  possessed,  healing  of 
the,  132-5. 

Doctors,  Jesus  among  the,  65-6. 

Dothan,  19. 

Doves,  offering  of,  by  the  Virgin  Mary 
at  the  Temple,  27. 

Drag-net,  parable  of  the,  193. 

Ear    of    the     high     priest's    servant 

touched,  356. 
East,  burial  in  the,  285. 
Easter,  the  first,  391-6. 
Egypt,  the  Flight  into,  45-6  ;  and  the 

Nile,  46-7. 
Eight-fold  woe  pronounced  by  Jesus 

against  His  enemies,  329-30. 
Elisabeth  (mother    of    St.    John    the 

Baptist),  6,  14,  15,  16. 
Emmaus,   Christ's   appearance  to  the 

disciples  at,  397-400, 


Ephraim,  the  town  of,  291. 
Esdraelou,  the  plain  of,  50,  68. 
Eyes  of  the  blind,  Jesus  touches  the, 
221. 

Faith,  the  power  of,  230-2,  317. 
False  son,  parable  of  the,  319. 
Fasting,  a  question  about,  150. 
Feeding  the  four  thousand,  219-20. 
Fig-tree,  the  barren,  314-15. 
First-born  son  presented  to  the  Lord, 

27 ;  what  it  reminded  the  Jews  of, 

28. 
'  Fishers  of  men,'  127-30. 
Fishes,   the    miraculous    draught    of, 

127-31. 
Five  loaves,  miracle  of  the,  203-6. 
Flight  into  Egypt,  the,  45-6. 
Forerunner,    the    preaching    of    the 

King's,  71-8. 
Forgiveness,    a  lesson    about.   235-6 ; 

story  of  a  little  boy's,  237.  ' 
Forty  days,  the,  in  the  wilderness,  81  ; 

the,  after  the  Resurrection,  412-13. 
Fountain  of  Living  Water,  the  Holy 

Spirit  the,  240. 
Friend   at  midnight,  parable  of  the, 

248-9. 
Fruitless  fig-tree,  parable  of  the,  314-5, 

Gabriel,  the  angel,  appearance  of,  to 
Zacharias,  8-9;  to  Mary,  12-13. 

Gadara,  127  ;  the  demoniac  of,  195-7. 

Gain,  law  of  loss  and,  in  the  heavenly 
life,  340-1. 

Galilee  of  the  Gentiles,  48,  111,  118, 
137,  167,  233,  246,  405. 

Sea  of,  126-7,  218  ;  Jesus'  appear- 
ance to  the  disciples  at,  207-8,  406- 
10. 

Garden  of  God,  a  story  of  the,  43-44, 

Gennesareth  ('the  garden  land '),  102-3, 

Gerizim,  Samaritans'  temple  at,  112. 

Gethsemane,  Garden  of,  313  ;  Jesus  in 
the,  352-5, 

Golden  rule,  the,  161-2. 

Good  Friday,  the  first,  387. 

Samaritan,  parable  of  the,  251-4. 

Shepherd,  Christ  the,  218,  243-5. 

Gospel  of  the  Hand  (St.  Mark's  Gospel), 
134. 

Great  Supper,  parable  of  the,  260-2. 

Greeks,  Jesus  and  the  inquiring,  333. 


INDEX 


411) 


'{Jreen  Thursday  '  (the  day  before  the 
Passover),  344. 

Hall  of  Polislied  Stones  in  the  Temple, 

7. 
Hallel,  the  great,  239,311. 
Hebron,  6,  13-15. 
Hermou,    iMount,  49 ;    the  Mount  of 

Transfiguration,  225,  292. 
Herod  (the  Great)  and  the  wise  men, 

38-40  ;  and  the  murder  of  the  Inno- 
cents, 41-4 ;  lOfi,  300. 
(Antipas),  and  the  murder  of  St. 

John    the    Baptist,    177-82 ;    Jesus 

before,  367-8. 
Herodias  and   St.   John   the   Baptist, 

180. 
Holy  Place  in  the  Temple,  visit  of  the 

angel  to  Zacharias  in  the,  8,  10,  11  ; 

63. 
Holy  of  Holies  and  what  it  contained, 

63. 
Holy  Spirit,  outpouring  of  the,  on  the 

apostles,  413-14. 
Home  at  Nazareth,  the,  50-3. 
Houses,  parable  of  the  two,  163-4. 
Humility,  a  sermon  on,  260. 
Husbandmen,  parable  of  the  wicked, 

319-20. 

Innocents,  murder  of  the,  42-4. 

Jairus'  daughter,  raising  of,  198-201. 

James,  St.,  127,  162,  292-4,  354. 

the  Little,  St.,  152. 

Jericho  ('  the  city  of  palms '),  the  blind 
beggar  of,  295-8  ;  300. 

Jerusalem,  Feast  of  the  Passover  at, 
57-64 ;  291  ;  the  triumphal  entry 
into,  309-12  ;  Jesus  weeps  over,  312- 
13,  330  ;  foretells  the  destruction  of, 
337 ;  Jesus'  appearance  to  His  dis- 
ciples at,  401-2. 

Jesus,  what  the  name  means,  12, 18,  26. 

Jewish  hospitality,  97,  183. 

marriage  described,  95-6. 

Jezreel,  19. 

John,  St.,  91,  127,  152,  292-4,  345-7; 
at  the  sepulchre  of  Jesus,  393-5  ; 
407,  410-11  ;  legend  of,  411. 

the  Baptist,  St.  ('the  Fore- 
runner'), birth  of,  15-17;  his 
preaching,  71-8 ;  baptism  of  Jesus 
bv,  76-9:  murder  of,  in  the  Black 


Castle  of  Machaerus,  177-82  ;   202, 

818. 
Jordan,  77,  89. 
Joseph  of  Arimathea,  386-7. 
the  Carpenter,  11,   18-24,   26-8, 

45-7,  50-2,  77. 
Judas  Iscariot,  162,  303-4 ;    sells  his 

Master,  344 ;    Jesus   washes  Judas' 

feet,   346 ;    the    traitor    unmasked, 

347-8 ;  366  ;  his  suicide,  362. 
Jude,  St.,  152. 
Justinian  and   Euphrasia,   a  story  of, 

332. 

King  in  His  glory  on  the  Mount  of 
Transfiguration,  225-8. 

Kingdom  of  God,  Jesus  lays  down  the 
laws  of  the,  155-64 ;  the  seven  pic- 
tures of  the,  188-93  ;  the  builders  of 
the,  201. 

King's  robe  worn  by  the  King's  guests, 
323. 

Lamb  of  God,  the,  89-90. 

Lazarus,    255,    279 ;    raised    from   the 

dead,  285-9 ;  303. 
Leaven,  parable  of  the,  191. 
Legends  and  stories  : — 

Legends  of  the  Holy  Birth,  21-2. 
Story  of  the  Garden  of  God,  43-4. 
Legend  of  the  Flight  into  Egypt, 

4.5-6. 
A  Legend  of  Nazareth,  96. 
Jesus  and  the  dead  dog,  145-6. 
The  sinful  man  and  the  Pope,  176. 
'Teresa  and   two  sous,  and  God,' 

281-2. 
A  little  boy's  forgiveness,  286-7. 
The    little    girl    and     the    Good 

Shepherd,  244-5. 
The  nine  ungrateful  lepers,  247. 
The  Glasgow  woman  who  was  like 

the  Good  Samaritan,  254. 
The  prodigal  girl,  271. 
Justinian  and  Euphrasia,  332. 
Martin  the  cobbler,  and  his  vision, 

342. 
St.  Peter's  threefold  denial,  361. 
The  vacant  picture  in  the  gallery 

at  Venice,  863. 
'The  Patriot,'  374. 
Legend  of  St.  John,  411. 
Leper  cleansed,  the,  187-40. 
Lepers,  the  cleansing  of  the  ten,  246-7. 


420 


THE  CHILD'S  LH^E  OF  JESUS 


Leprosy,  what  it  is^  1-37. 

Levi  (or  Matthew).— ,See  Matthew. 

Lord's  Prayer,  the,  248;   twice  given 

by  Jesus,  100  n. 
Lost  coin,  parable  of  the,  2fi5-6. 

sheep,  parable  of  the,  :i63-4. 

Lots  cast  for  .lesus'  garment,  370. 
Love  the  great  commandment,  327-8. 
Lunatic  boy,  Jesus  restores  the,  229-31. 

Machaebus,  St.  John  the  Baptist  in 

the  Black  Castle  of,  177-82. 
Magdala,  Jesus  at,  220. 
Magnificat  (or  '  Song  of  the  heart  that 

gives  God  glory  '),  14. 
Malchus,  the  high  priest's  servant,  35G, 
Man  who  was  born  blind,  the,  241-3. 

with  the  dropsy,  259. 

with  the  withered  hand,  the,  168- 

70. 
Mark,  St.  (author  of  'the  Gospel  of 

the  Hand'),  134;  401. 
Martha,  255-6,  279,  285-9,  302. 
Mary  the  mother  of  Jesus,  appearance 
of  the  Angel  Gabriel  to,  12,  13; 
birth  of  our  Lord,  18-24;  25-29, 
41,  42,  45-52,  57-66  ;  at  the  Cross, 
382. 

the    sister    of    Lazarus,    sits    at 

Jesus'  feet,  255-6  ;  279  ;  her  brother 
raised  from  the  dead,  285-9  ;  anoints 
Jesus'  feet,  303-4. 

Magdalene,  and  the  alabaster  box 

of  ointment,  183-5;  382;  at  the 
grave  of  Jesus,  393-6. 

the  wife  of  Cleopas,  382,  393. 

Matthew,  St.,  the  call  of,  144-9  ;  152. 
Mina  (a  sum  of  money),  300. 
Miracles  of  our  Lord: — 

Turning  Water  into  Wine,  97-99. 
Healing  the  Nobleman's  Sou,  118- 

21. 
The  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes, 

127-31. 
Healing  the  Man  possessed,  132-3. 
Healing    Simon     Peter's     Wife's 

Mother,  133-4. 
The  Leper  cleansed,  137-40. 
Healing  the   Sick   of  the   Palsy,  j 

142-4. 
The     Cripple     at     the     Pool     of 

Bethesda,  165-(;. 
The     Man     with     the    Withered 
Hand,  108-70. 


The  Centurion's  Servant,  170-2. 
Raising  the  Widow's  Son  at  Nain, 

173-5. 
The  Stilling  of  the  Waves,  194-5. 
The  Demoniac  of  Gadara,  195-7. 
Raising  of  Jairus'  daughter,  198- 

201. 
The  Five  Loaves,  203  6. 
The  Walking  on  the  Water,  207. 
The  Daughter  of  the  Woman  of 

Syro-Phoenicia,  214-16. 
The  Deaf  and  Dumb  Man,  217- 
Feeding  the  Four  Thousand,  219- 

20. 
Touching  the  Eves  of  the  Blind, 

221. 
The  Lunatic  Boy,  229-31. 
The  Coin  from  the  Fish's  Mouth, 

250. 
The   Man   who   was   born   Blind, 

241-3. 
The  Ten  Lepers,  246-7. 
The  Crippled  VV^oman,  251. 
The  Man  with  the  Dropsy,  269. 
The    Raising     of    Lazarus,    279, 

285-9. 
The    Blind    Beggar    of    Jericho, 

295-8. 
The  Barren  Fig-tree,  314-15. 
The  High  Priest's  Servant,  356. 
Other  miracles  of  healing,  134-5, 
137,  203,  216,  316. 
Money,  a  question  about,  249. 
Money-changers  in  the  Temple,  104, 
314;  Jesus  drives  them  forth,  105-6, 
315-16. 
Mount  Hermon,    49  ;    the   Mount  of 
Transfiguration,  225,  292. 

Moriah,  60,  61. 

of  Blessing,   the   King   on   the, 

155-64. 

of  Olives,  311,  317,  336. 

Tabor,  49. 

Zion,  60, 

]\Iustard-seed,  parable  of  the,  190-1. 

Nain,    raising    the    widow's    son    at, 

173-5. 
Nathanael,  Jesus  and,  9.3-5  ;  supposed 

to  be  St.  Bartholomew,  152. 
Nazareth,  11,  13,  15  ;  the  life  of  Jesus 

at,  48-56;  the  rejection  at,  121-0. 
'Needle's  eye,'  what  Jesus  meant  by 

the,  281. 


INDEX 


421 


Nicodemus  comes  to  Jesus  by  night, 

108-11  ;  387. 
Nobleman,    the,    and    the    pieces    of 

money,  300-2. 
Nobleman's  son,  healing  the,  118-21. 

Obedience,  Jesus'  life  of,  54. 
Outcast,   Jesus'   love   for  the,   148-9, 
262-3. 

Palsy,  healing  the  sick  of  the,  142-4. 
Parables  of  our  Lord  : — 

The  Two  Houses,  l(i.3-4. 

The  Two  Debtors,  185. 

The  Sower,  189-90. 

The  Tares,  190. 

The  Mustard  Seed,  190-1. 

The  Leaven,  191. 

The  Hid  Treasure,  191. 

The  Pearl  of  Great  Price,  191-2. 

The  Drag-net,  193. 

The  Unmerciful  Servant,  235-(). 

The  Friend  at  Midnight,  248-9. 

The  Rich  Churl,  250-1. 

The  Good  Samaritan,  2.)l-4. 

The  Great  Supper,  2G0-2. 

The  Lost  Sheep,  263-4. 

The  Lost  Coin,  26.5-6. 

The  Prodigal  Son,  266-71. 

The  Unjus't  Steward,  272-3. 

The  Rich  Man   and   the  Beggar, 
273-5. 

The  Pharisee    and  the    Publican, 
275-6. 

The  Labourers   in   the  Vineyard, 
282-4. 

The  Pounds,  300-2,  340. 

The  Fruitless  Fig-tree,  314-15. 

The  False  Son,  319. 

The  Wicked  Husbandmen,  319-20. 

The  Wedding-Feast,  321-3. 

The  Ten  Virgins,  338-9. 

The  Talents,  340-1. 
Parables  of  Jesus   so    many  coloured 

pictures,  189. 
Passion,  Christ  foretells  His,  22.3, 292-4. 
Passover,  Feast  of  the,  57-64,  104,  345. 

lamb,  the,  64. 

Pearl  of  great  price,  parable  of  the, 

191-2. 
Penitent  thief  on  the  cross,  the,  381-2. 
Pentecost  (or  Ingathering),  Feast  of, 

57. 
Peraja,  246,  269,  279. 


Peter,  St.  (Simon  Peter),  91,  92;  'a 
fisher  of  men,'  127-30;  133,  141, 152, 
208,  213;  his  brave  confession,  221- 
3;  rebuked,  224;  225,  227,  235; 
his  pride,  282 ;  317,  345-7  ;  denies 
his  Lord,  351,  359-61  ;  and  the 
high  priest's  servant,  3.56 ;  at  the 
grave  of  Jesus,  393-5 ;  Christ's 
appearances  to,  397,  406-10;  wins 
the  martyr's  crown,  410. 

Pharisee  and  the  Publican,  parable  of 
the,  275-6. 

Pharisees,  their  parade  of  piety,  107- 
8,  169,  160;  displeased  with  Jesus, 
149,  290,  311;  and  Sadducees  ask 
Jesus  for  a  sign,  220. 

Philip,  St.,  92,  93,  152,  1.53;  and  the 
five  loaves,  204  ;  332. 

'  Phylacteries,'  what  they  were,  57-8. 

Pilate,  Pontius,  trial  of  Jesus  before, 
364-73 ;  his  moral  weakness,  370, 
373  ;  380,  385,  392. 

Pity  of  Jesus,  the,  330. 

Pounds,  parable  of  the,  300-2,  340. 

Poverty  of  Jesus,  25,  53-4,  24!>. 

Prfetorium  or  .Judgment-hall,  365-6, 
372,  373. 

Prayer,  the  Lord's,  248,  160  n.  ;  Jesus 
constant  in,  248. 

Presentation  of  Jesus  in  the  Temple, 
26-33. 

Priest  and  the  Levite,  the,  2.53. 

Prodigal  girl,  story  of  a,  271. 

son,  parable  of  the,  266-71. 

Puldicans  (or  tax-gatherers)  despised, 
144-5  ;  and  sinners,  Jesus'  love  for, 
262-3. 


'  Rkdekming  '  n    child    offered    to  the 

Lord,  28. 
Refusal,  the  erreat,  281. 
Rejection  of  Jesus  at  Nazareth,  121-6. 
Resurrection,  Jesus  foretells  His,  223, 

228,  292  ;  denied  by  the  Sadducees, 

826-7  :  Christ's,  391-7. 
Rich  churl,  parable  of  the,  2.50-1. 
man  and   the  beggar,  parable  of 

the,  273-5. 
'  Road  of  the  loving  heart,'  the,  163. 
Roads,  the  choice  of  the  two,  162-3. 
Rock,  St.  Peter  the,  92,  223. 
*  Rose  gathered  for  the  breast  of  God,' 

43. 


422  THE  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS 


Ruler,  Jesus  and  the  rich  youug,  279- 
81. 

Sabbath,    Jesus    heals   on    the,    133, 

166,  241,  251  ;  strictness  of  the  Jews 

regarding  the,  166-9 ;  Jesus  on  the, 

168-9,  261. 
Sadducees   the   sceptics  of  their  age, 

326-7. 
Salome  (daughter  of  Herodias)  asks  for 

the  head  of  St.  John  the   Baptist, 

180-1. 
(the  mother  of  St.  James  and  St. 

John)  craves   a   boon  for  her  sons, 

292-3  ;  393. 
Samaria,  the   woman    at    the  well  of, 

113-16. 
Samaritans,  hostility  between  the  Jews 

and,  111-12. 
Sanctuary  (or  Holy  House),  63,  336. 
Sanhedrim  (or  great  council),  290,  317, 

843,  361,  364. 
Schools  of  the  Rabbis  scrupulous  about 

small  things,  327. 
Scourging    and    mocking     of    Jesus, 

370-3. 
Scribe  who  was  not  far  from  the  King- 
dom, 327-8. 
Scribes   and    Pharisees,    131-2 ;    their 

hostility    to    Jesus,    143-4,   149-50, 

169,  186,  241  ;  dispute  with  Jesus, 

251-4 ;  317. 
Second  Coming,  Jesus  announces  His, 

337-8. 
Sermon  on  the  Mount,  155-64. 
'  Sermon  on  the  Sea,'  188-9. 
Service,  Jesus'  life  of,  54. 
Seven  pictures  of  the  Kingdom,  188- 

93. 
Seventy,  mission  of  the,  246. 
*  She  hath  done  what  she  could,'  304-5. 
Shechem  (or  Sychar),  113. 
Sheep  and  the  goats,  the,  341-2, 

Gate,  the,  at  Jerusalem,  165. 

Shiloh,  19. 

Sign  given  by  the  angel  to  Zacharias, 

9. 
Siloam,  Pool  of,  239,  242. 
Simeon,  the  aged,  29  ;  Song  of  (or  Nunc 

Dimittis),  30,  31. 
Simon  Peter. — See  Peter. 
Simon  Peter's    wife's   mother    healed, 

13.3-4. 
St.,  Zelotes,  152. 


Simon  of  Bethany,  Jesus  in  the  house 

of,  302. 
the  Cyrenean  carries  Jesus'  cross, 

376. 
the    Pharisee    entertains   Jesus, 

183-5. 
Sinful   man  and  the  Pope,  legend  of 

the,  175. 
Sinlessness  of  Jesus,  55,  217-18. 
Sinners,  Jesus  eats  with  publicans  and, 

147-9. 
Soldier's  pity  for  Jesus  on  the  Cross, 

384. 
Soldiers  divide  Jesus'  garments,  379 ; 

watch  by  Jesus'  grave,  392,  397. 
Solomon's  Porch  in  the  Temple,  253. 
'  Songs  of  Ascent,'  59. 
'  Son  of  the  Law,'  57. 
'Sons  of  Thunder'  (St.  James  and  St. 

John),  238. 
Sower,  parable  of  the,  189-90. 
'  Star  that  appeared  in  the  East,'  36- 

40. 
Stars  supposed  to  influence  men's  lives, 

36. 
Sternness  of  Jesus  with  the  Pharisees, 

186,  329-30. 
'  Stone  that  the  builders  rejected,'  321. 
Storm    on    the  lake,  Jesus  stills  the, 

194-5. 
Sychar  (or  Shechem),  113,  117. 
Synagogue,    at    Nazareth,    52-3 ;    de- 
scribed, 121-2  ;  at  Capernaum,  Jesus 

teaches  in  the,  131-3. 
Syro-Phoenicia,  daughter  of  the  woman 

of,  healed,  214-16. 

Tabernacles,  Feast  of,  57  ;  Jesus  at 
the,  237-41  ;  ceremonies  at  the,  239- 
41. 

Talents,  parable  of  the,  340-1. 

Tares,  parable  of  the,  190. 

Temple,  priests  of  the,  divided  into 
twenty-four  companies,  7  ;  worship 
in  the,  described,  7-10 ;  presenta- 
tion of  Jesus  in  the,  26-33 ;  Jesus' 
visit  to  the,  57-66  ;  courts  described, 
62-3 ;  money-changers  driven  out  of 
the,  104-0,  315-6;  curtain  of  the, 
rent,  385. 

hill  (or  '  Mountain  of  the  House '), 

313. 

Temptation  of  Jesus  in  the  wilderness, 
81-7  ;  its  lesson  for  children,  87-8. 


INDEX 


123 


Teu  cities  of  Decapolis,  the,  21G-17. 
Teresa,  St.,  story  of,  231-2, 
Thieves,  upon  the  cross,  381-2. 
Thirty  pieces  of  silver,  Jesus  sold  for, 

8il 
Three  great   festivals    of  the    Jewish 

Church,  57. 

hours,  the,  upon  the  Cross,  882-3. 

Thomas,  St.  (Didymus  or  'the Twin'), 

and  the  Risen  Lord,  403-5. 
Tiberias,  127. 

Transfiguration  of  Christ,  the,  225-9. 
Treasure,  parable  of  the  hidden,  191-2. 
Tribute-money,  a  question  about,  324-6. 
Trumpets  (great  brazen  chests),  330-1. 
Turning  water  into  wine,  97-9. 
Twelve,  Jesus  sets  apart  the,  151-4. 
Two  Debtors,  parable  of  the,  185. 
Tyre  and  Sidon,  the   merchandise  of, 

213. 


Unjust  Steward,  parable  of  the,  272-3. 
Unmerciful   Servant,   parable  of  the, 

235-6. 
Upper  room,  Jesus  in  the,  345-50. 


Vacant  picture,  story  of  the,  363. 
Vine,  Christ  the  true,  351-2. 
Vineyard,  parable  of  the  labourers  in 

the,  282-4. 
Virgins,  parable  of  the  ten,  338-9. 
Voice  from  Heaven,  79,  227,  334. 

Washing  of  hands,  Jesus  and  the,  213. 
Water  of  Life,  Jesus  and  the,  114-5. 
Waves,  Jesus  stills  the,  194-5. 
Wedding-feast,  parable  of  the,  321-3. 
Widow's  mite,  the,  331 . 
Wilderness   of  St.    John   the   Baptist 

called  'the  Horror,'  72. 

Temptation  of  Jesus  in  the,  81-7. 

Wise  men  of  the  East,  visit  of  the,  34- 

41  ;  their  reputed  names,  85. 
Women,  the  devout,  at  the  Cross,  382  ; 

at  the  grave,  391,  893. 
Wonderful  things  which  happened  at 

the  Crucifixion,  385. 

Zacch^us,  how  he  saw  Jesus,  298-300. 
Zacharias,  appearance  of  the  angel  to, 

7-11  ;  15,  16. 
Zealots,  a  Jewish  sect,  152. 


Printed  by  T.  and  A.  Constable,  Printers  to  His  Majesty 
at  the  Edinburgh  University  Press 


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The  child's  life  of  Jesus 

■Milir.T.li'M"'?^'"'  Semmary-Speer  Library 

1    1012  00055  7035 


